Skip to main content

Full text of "Checked through, missing, trunk no. 17580; a story on New York city life"

See other formats 


Google 



This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 

to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 

publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 
We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 

at |http: //books .google .com/I 



%^7fr^ <.^W^ <^?i^tt^y^ 




v2e J^c*/a^ 



6^J,uU, jiC-**^y6*v^ 






\ 



\^ 



■'-A.v:-.v,-<^*5^>- 



,^_^,,^^p^»^ I ■ I 111 ^-^f—i^"— — — <W^— ^^iW>^— |i ^^^—11 



c^r/5u cx^?w&- ^t^«My^ 







A../^^^ 



•~-^. V" . 



V- 



• w 



I' 



V 



; 



. 4.. 



A 






n ■• 



,1 



I ■ 



^ 



^ 



•, 1" 



" ' • 



Checked Through 



Checked Through 



Missing, Trunk No. 17580 



A Story of New York City Life, 



By 
Richard Henry Savage, 

Author of " My Official Wife," " The 
Masked Venus," eta 



« 



Chicago and New York: 

Rand, McNally & Company. 

MDCCCXCVl. 



47639 

-**^«'- LENOX 



'O 



AT. 



•CS. 



Copyright, 1896, by Riquard Hejjry Savage. 






< * 






• • "» 



CONTENTS. 

BOOK I. 

A STRANGER WITHIN THE GATES. 

PAOB 

Chapter I — A Father's Forebodings, 5 

II — Madeleine's Awakening, 23 

III — Counselor Bashford Weakens, .... 40 

IV — A Modem Portia, 67 

V — The Junior Partner, 87 

BOOK II. 

ONE OF eve's family. 

Chapter VI — The Old, Old Story, 109 

VII — The Yoke of Tammany, 134 

VIII — The FUtting of Portia. 154 

IX — In the Lone House by the Lagoon, ... 175 

X — Missing! 198 

BOOK III. 

" VENGEANCE IS MINE, SAITH THE LORD! " 

Chapter XI — The Congressman's Marriage, 221 

XII — Hounded Down ! Lost ! Trunk No. 17580 ! 245 

XIII — The Manhattan Storage Company's Auction, 263 

XIV — A Millionairess Detective, 281 

XV — On the Small Book at the Tombs, . . . a^ 



Checked Through 



MISSING, TRUNK NO. 17580. 



BOOK I —A stranger Within the Gates. 



CHAPTER I. 

A FATHER'S FOREBODINGS. 

There is nothing more unwelcome than a sudden 
summons to break off a holiday run and return to that 
daily grind which leaves the mark of the nether and 
upper millstones graven deeply upon the care-worn 
faces of the bread winners of Gotham. Counselor 
Hiram Bashford of the New York Bar scowled darkly 
at the innocent-looking youth who had dashed up to 
the Hall with an ominous yellow envelope. The great 
lawyer absently signed his name, tossing a reluctant 
half dollar to the telegraph messenger. 

"No answer, sir?" timidly demanded the lad, as he 
tightened his horse's girth. A decisive growl of nega- 
tion was the reply of the senior partner of that eminent 
firm of New York counselors, whose signature, "Bash- 
ford, Blake and Bodley," on bill of exceptions or bill 
of costs, is justly esteemed a terror to friend and foe. 

"What is it, Bashford?" hazarded the master of the 
Hall. "Nothing that will take you avja^ feotci >\^^\ 



6 CHECKED THROUGH. 

hope?" And then, Philip Ware indulged in certain 
heartfelt maledictions upon the name of Morse. Hi- 
ram Bashford, strong in his wrath, rose and pitched 
away his cigar, after the fashion of hurling a hand 
grenade. "Only the same old thing! There's Bod- 
ley and Blake, both younger men than myself — ^juniors, 
too, in the firm — the one, racing all over Europe with 
his fashionable wife, and the other, a fiend for fishing, 
lurking in the Yellowstone Park! I believe there is a 
secret compact between them and Withers, our head 
clerk, that I shall be shadowed daily in law vacation! 
I must go up to town! Something is wrong with 
Pacific Mail!" The irate lawyer then thrust the tele- 
gram in his pocket and glanced around in defiance, as 
if he expected the sudden appearance of an unknown 
champion of the three recalcitrants. 

But the dreamy silence of a golden September after- 
noon was unbroken, save by the lazy calls of the mar- 
iners "on sloop and shallop," slowly drifting down the 
broad Delaware. The hills and dales around New 
Castle were now decked in the glories of the fading 
summer, and a few colored servants listlessly shuflfled 
about the gardens of the Hall, which was the last of 
Philip Ware's patrimonial possessions. A few miles 
to the north, the cloud of smoke rising over busy Wil- 
mington seemed to hover as an ominous black blot 
upon the perfect skies of the summer which had 
brought the long sundered college comrades together. 
For forty years had passed since Hiram Bashford and 
Philip Ware had parted under the elms of Yale, with 
all the promise of their youth written on their brows 
— and but too well the classmates knew those four fig- 
ures of warning — 1890. 

Bashford, burdened with the toils of the forum, and 
bending under the weight of hard won honors, had 
gladly accepted the invitation, couched in almost plain- 
tive terms, which called him to dreamy Delaware. And, 
even in his angry mood, he was struck with the dismay 
upon his host's melancholy face. The man who "had 
arrived" stopped in his selfish passion to say kindly: 



CHECKED THROUGH. 7 

"I am very sorry, Phil — sorry ^o leave you! It has 
been like a waft of the old days to be with you again; 
but — I can't help it! I must leave you to-morrow 
morning." "There is something that I must speak to 
you about before you go, Hiram," faltered Judge 
Ware, indecisively. "And the time is so short ! There 
are some people coming to dine here to-night — Shear- 
er, of the Bank, and also one or two men of the pro- 
fession, whom I have asked to meet you." There was 
a vag^e sorrow thrilling in Philip Ware's plaint. 

"If there is anything I can do, Phil, command me!" 
said the favored son of fortune, grasping his friend's 
hand warmly. There was a strange pallor on the 
host's colorless face, as he murmured a few words of 
gratitude. 

"I thank you, Hiram," he gravely said. "I only 
wished to speak to you about Madeleine" — and as he 
turned his head away, the father's eyes were dim and 
clouded. 

"Where are the young ladies?" demanded Bashford, 
trying to break an awkward silence. "They are out 
driving," hastily replied the host, as he rose in some 
confusion. "I will come up to your rooms when the 
guests leave to-night," continued the agitated man. 
"For t must have a long talk with you — and Made- 
leine must not know of it." With a few words of apol- 
ogy for his absence, Philip Ware departed on hospita- 
ble thoughts intent. For the light foot of his beautiful 
Maryland bride had not lingered long in the old manor 
house. The silence of Philip Ware's widowed years 
had only been broken by the merry prattle of that 
motherless child who had filled the lonely heart ten- 
anted by the gracious shade of the vanished beauty. 

A man upon whom the hopes of his entire class were 
builded, Philip Ware had passed his life in a dreamy 
self-absorption. A peerless master of the theory of 
the law, a refined and far-soaring student, success had 
strangely passed him by — and his intellectual face bore 
the sad seal of self-confessed failure. For he, with all 
his arts and graces, with all the wealth ol tVva ^tXNSx^^ 



8 CHECKED THROUGH. 

treasury of years, was not one of the lucky mortals 
"who touch the magic string/^ 

"Poor Phil!'' murmured Hiram Bashford, as he cut 
a deeply indented V into a companionable cigar, and 
wandered slowly away down into the dim haunts of 
the neglected gardens. He found a seat where the 
blue Delaware shone out in the tranquil afternoon, 
framed in fantastic vistas of the old trees dating from 
the days when the Blue and Buff uniforms of the Dela- 
ware regiment had thronged these same grassy lawns. 
The stern, strong face of the great advocate relaxed 
as he recalled the vanished youthful brightness of 
Philip Ware's delicate and refined face. "He has 
missed it all along!" mused Bashford. "I remember 
Phil's letter, when he carried away that sweet Mary- 
land heiress from a 'press of gallant knights!' *Love 
is enough !' A tender and chivalric motto, yet. Death 
broke that golden chain, and the love which has never 
shone on my life has been the crowning sorrow of his !" 
As the man whose voice brought ever a silence to the 
crowded court room mused alone, there was a tender 
light in the steady gray eyes. A wintry play of the 
northern lights of the old romance, now fled forever. 
Burly, rugged, of giant frame, with an imposing pres- 
ence, Hiram Bashford was a tall oak of the human 
forest. His fifty-eight years had not robbed his res- 
onant voice of its manly ring, and his strongly mould- 
ed features bespoke power, resolution and mental 
poise. 

Keen, direct, strong and incisive, he drew his legai 
wisdom from a deep well of clear, cold reason. Bold, 
and yet cautious, there was "good fighting all along 
the line" when Hiram Bashford stood up to battle for 
his millionaire clients, the great American "pluto- 
crats." Secretly fearing and openly respecting him, 
these mighty sons of Mammon held their breath when 
they entered the sanctum where Bashford's resolute 
fingers energetically carved his unerring lines deeply 
into the construction of brief or pleading. He wore 
his laurel crown as "a sceptered hermit" — for the law 



CHECKED THROUGH. 9 

had been to him a jealous mistress, and the only hand- 
maiden of his strangely lonely life. It was enough for 
him to have the respect of friend and foe. Upon his 
shield rested no stain, for he cherished always the idea 
that the profession of the law had not descended into 
a mere "business.'' Just and courteous to all, he 
stalked the intellectual forests alone. Though all 
knew him in New York, his few visits to the clubs and 
his rarer appearances at the great dinner functions 
were red letter days to his admirers. Rich and power- 
ful, eschewing faction and politics, he went soberly 
along the upward path toward the summit where his 
eagle eyes had rested in youth. It had never occurred 
to Hiram Bashford to ask what the world thought of 
him. His single recorded outburst of merriment oc- 
curred when the slyest legal fox in Manhattan ruefully 
said: "I will never make a mistake on Hiram again! 
I slighted my last case against him, and he just went 
through my defenses, like a circus rider through a pa- 
per hoop." It was a compliment which touched the 
grim champion's heart. 

On this summer afternoon the visitor forgot his fu- 
ture demurrers and injunctions to enter into the con- 
sideration of his agitated host's troubles. In the three 
weeks of a stolen furlough, the lawyer had been turn- 
ing backward with Time in its flight, and had given 
but little personal attention to Madeleine Ware, the 
subject of the coming conference. 

And as little had he bu§ied himself with that par- 
ticularly vivacious young Pennsylvania heiress, Miss 
Florence Atwater, whose return from a two years' wan- 
dering brought her to the side of the beautiful com- 
rade of their four happy years at Ogontz. The two 
young nymphs were all in all to each other. "I sup- 
pose it is some love affair!" murmured Bashford, as he 
sought in vain for any alarming symptoms of a crash 
among the household gods. "Ware has a storied old 
home nest here. He seems well-to-do. He lives al- 
most in old colonial style." The visitor felt his own 
unfitness to grapple with family mallets. 1\. \vaA xvcX 



10 CHECKED THROUGH. 

been faint heartedness or egoism which had caused 
him to navigate his bark of life alone. Chary of 
speech, Bashford had curiously watched from a dis- 
tance the social outcome of those who had studied 
"the bright lexicon of youth*' in his company. No 
man dared to draw out the secrets of a heart always 
sealed to the world, and yet none dared to say that the 
great counselor adhered to Bismarck's brutal dictum: 
"It is an immense advantage to the career of any man 
if he can enibark on the voyage of life without a fe- 
male crew." 

For the sagacious Bashford well knew that the "man 
of blood and iron" was himself a conspicuous example 
of the worthlessness of his own words! Doomed to 
sit alone, in a neglected, if splendid, old age, and 
mourn the vanished smile of his tender-hearted wife, 
gone before. "I fancy," mused Bashford, "that some 
detrimental wishes to carry away the queen of these nod- 
ding roses. Perhaps some adroit youths have broken in 
over the garden wall, attracted by the buttressed mil- 
lions of that bright imp. Miss Florence! Those 
society guerillas often hunt in couples. Strange," con- 
tinued the bachelor lawyer, in a reminiscent mood, and 
waving his cigar at an imaginary "Court," "how easy 
it is for good and eligible women to be attracted by 
perfectly worthless men! Your fine women are like 
shy trout — you can catch them best with a feather!" 
He sighed, for he had all the reverence of a lonely man 
for that charming sex of which he knew so very little. 
Bashford's women acquaintance had been limited to 
bands of hungry heirs at law, fighting each other with 
true family ferocity; to certain fretful and pampered 
widows, anxious to hurl their substance away upon 
the "coming man," usually a youthful replica of the 
"loved and lost;" with occasional "lurid heroines" who 
had found "marriage a failure," and were uneasily 
shifting the "burden of their loneliness" upon some 
passionate hidden admirer lurking in the wilds of 
South Dakota. "These people don't count," frowned 
the lawyer. "Their trouble is of a kind which finally 



CHECKED THROUGH. 11 

cures itself! But, why good, gifted and lovable women 
will throw themselves, open-armed, at fantastic rene- 
gades or haggard-eyed frauds, is a puzzle to me ! They 
find the cud of experience a bitter one to chew, at the 
outcome." While the counselor paced aimlessly 
about the witchingly lovely grounds, it suddenly oc- 
curred to him that Madeleine Ware might have been 
sacrificed to the studious Nirvana of her father's 
widowed retirement. "Yes! That's it!" the bachelor 
lawyer decided, as he paused and gazed at the ram- 
bling old Revolutionary mansion, now steeped in the 
gplden sunshine. "Poor Phil! He has nursed his 
grief for the angel on the threshold. I presume the 
dear old boy thinks that his daughter is a bit of deli- 
cate machinery like a Dent's chronometer, only a beau- 
tiful mechanism, to be put in a safe place, and, with 
proper treatment, to then run on forever! But," and 
the lonely man sighed, "the human heart has its 
strange aberrations! Love comes sooner or later to 
all lives! And, as for Madeleine, better too soon, than 
too late. A world of trouble now, in her fresh and 
blooming youth, may save a wilderness of later sobs 
of sadness! I wonder if a little of the brightness that 
encircles this Princess of Pennsylvania would not lift 
the gray clouds around this girl who has silently 
slipped up from bud and blossom into a rare woman 
in this Adamless Paradise! I must speak to Ware. 
Perhaps a flank movement may disconcert the enemy! 
I will try." 

Though no squire of dames, Hiram Bashford had 
noted the remarkable superiority in parlor arts of that 
feather-headed class of men which hurls its giant in- 
tellect upon a tangled cotillion figure, or dominates 
the "reception" with the stern solemnity of the auto- 
crat 

"Such as it is, these fellows know their business!" 
growled Bashford, with self-accusing memories of 
many accidents in his infrequent excursions into the 
glittering jungles of society. Unwilling voyages on 
Oldies' trails, of strange intricacy and long drawn, out 



12 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Splendor came back to him. Sundry Waterloos where 
he had offered the wrong arm, or ina'dvertently sent a 
postal card to a haughty dame hung upon his darkened 
soul. "Yes! These gilded youths who brace up 
their slim necks with three-story collars are great — ^in 
small things," he growled, as he wandered back to the 
house. "They point a moral and adorn a tale!" he 
chuckled, with professional memories of various crest- 
fallen 'co-respondents' whose faces, grown familiar in 
court, were hideously distorted in the great Sunday 
blanket sheets, to the huge edification of the "injured." 

As the lawyer sought his dressing room, he vaguely 
wondered if any pecuniary troubles darkened the 
house which he had found so pleasant. "If it was only 
money," he reflected, "I could soon fix that! And 
yet Philip Ware is as proud as a Circassian prince! 
How could I ever find a way tb help him ! I must talk 
with Miss Madeleine myself." Bashford felt a pang at 
the idea of delving into the gentle girFs soul with the 
probe of an intellect too prone to cross-examination. 
"I can find a secret way to be kind to her, perhaps," 
he mused, as he mounted the stair. "If it's the wrong 
man, I may induce Miss Afwater to delude this pretty 
hermit out into the wider maelstrom of the Pennsyl- 
vania *swim!' I know her own circle of senatorial and 
millionaire trustees. I suppose her astute father se- 
lected these crafty Apaches of the golden tribe to 
watch each other. Now, some other Prince Charm- 
ing may enter the field, if Miss Madeleine makes a re- 
turn visit! *Similia similibus curantur!'" And Bash- 
ford then and there determined to swoop alongside, a 
great battle ship, and speak the pretty little cup de- 
fender from the land of Penn. "Yes, I must gain the 
confidence of Miss Florence Atwater," he gaily decid- 
ed, "if I am to have a glimpse of this Delaware maiden's 
heart." 

The New York lawyer had interpreted Philip Ware's 
coming interview to be keyed upon the soft notes of 
love alone. The only business of woman's life seemed 
to be a matter of marriages "in esse, or posse," to the 



CHECKED THROUGH. 13 

bachelor. He had failed to note the new forks in the 
road of Life on which the daughters of Eve have long 
wandered, "with reluctant feet." To him the broaden- 
ing career of the modern woman was only an im- 
palpable dream of sundry vigorous agitators. He was 
aware that heroic women, in attire of Redfern's chaste 
severity or Worth's florid artistic intricacy, did lift up 
their voices in the serene halls of Sorosis, or pipe forth 
olden truths from new pulpits. He had dimly recog- 
nized the fact that women now aspired to lose cases 
or patients, with the calm unconcern of the masculine 
lawyer or physician. But, it had never occurred to 
him that women would ever be rightly anything bu^ 
women! His own mother was but a gently hovering 
memory now — whose vanished face still thrilled the 
fibres of his world-worn heart. The dead woman 
whom he fain would one time have made his own, too, 
was hidden behind the unlifted veil of a great heart's 
inmost chamber. The fighting of the stern battle of 
life in the open seemed to him to be a struggle unfit- 
ted to that gentle sex which he so deeply reverenced — 
for his lonely life had hidden from his critical gaze 
those little blemishes in woman nature which the cross- 
es and trials of the marriage intimacy may sometimes 
discover. Counselor Bashford regarded certain self- 
constituted champions of the "downtrodden sex*' as 
most unnecessary evils. He avoided the dim haunts 
where they glowered as lionesses in the pathway, with 
the extremest care. He entertained a chastened aver- 
sion for these forerunners of new morals — strange di- 
versions and uncanny feminine costume. In fact, he 
shunned their chosen coigns of vantage as carefully 
as the superstitious Celt avoids the Banshee's chosen 
eyrie, or the War Lord of the modern world the fa- 
vorite walks of the White Lady of the Hohenzollems. 
Those "bright, aspiring woman souls" who had made 
inroads upon the three learned professions were, he 
thought, only fitted to be set up as "awful examples" 
in the Eden Musee or Huber's "unrivaled collection." 
Like others of his craven sex, Counselor Bashford 



14 CHECKED THROUGH. 

had gently toyed with the awful responsibilities of the 
situation, when a delegation of these basilisk-eyed sis- 
ters truculently placed a "petition of right" before him 
for his signature. Wise in his deceit, Bashford had 
blandly requested them to "leave the papers till he 
could examine the subject further.'' In this unheroic 
manner he 

DaUied with his golden chain. 
And, smiling, put the question by! 

When the fair Comanches had sallied forth on their 
unending "forlorn hope" warpath. Counselor Bashford 
sternly smote Managing Clerk Withers with the bit- 
terest words of cold reproof. "You should have known 
better, Withers," he gloomily said. "You are paid to 
know better. I had a very narrow escape." And, the 
petition remained unsigned forever. So the mind of 
the lawyer was running on "marriage'' and "giving in 
marriage" only, when two beautiful, bright-eyed ban- 
ditti waylaid him in the great upper hallway. 

It was breathless Madeleine Ware who said, in an 
unmistakable burst of confidence: "Judge Bashford, 
I must have a few words with you before you go ! My 
father has just told me! I am so sorry!" 

The lawyer's rugged face gleamed like an uplifted 
rock glittering in unwonted sunshine, as he greeted 
the two fair excursionists. 

"It must be a morning walk, then. Miss Madeleine, 
in your enchanted gardens!" he said; "for I also wish 
to confer with Miss Atwater upon a matter of mo- 
ment. This evening, I must give up to your father en- 
tirely." A more alert trio of conspirators never gath- 
ered behind Venetian tapestries than the three who 
gaily arranged a tryst "when the dew drops pearled 
each bud and leaf." "I want to speak to you about my 
future," earnestly said the daughter of the house, with 
a clouded brow, and yet, Bashford smiled as he bowed 
deeply. "I think I can read it," he gently murmured, 
as he sought his room, after gaining Miss Atwater's 



CHECKED THROUGH. 15 

easily granted promise. " Ton my word, I am becom- 
ing quite a society man!" gleefully ruminated the law- 
yer, as he descended the stair — a modem Webster, re- 
splendent in his dinner panoply. 

And he absently hummed an old love song, fragrant 
yet with the memories of long faded roses which had 
drifted over the tomb of an unforgotten romance — 
the hidden story of that life which all men thought so 
hard and loveless. Ah! Star-eyed Memory! Truest 
of all the friendly fairies who minister at the unpro- 
faned altar of Love! 

The grinding of wheels on the graveled driveway 
soon announced the coming of Philip Ware^s guests, 
and while the master of the Hall greeted the newcom- 
ers, Bashford paced down the great hall dividing the 
historic old mansion into equal parts. Quaint trophies 
of Colonial days hung there in sober pride, and the 
huge drawing rooms and library were overflowing 
with that high tide of books which had swept Philip 
Ware far away out of the eddies of these later practi- 
cal days. The vast dining room was already lit with 
the clear gleam of wax, and bravely the old mahogany 
gleamed under the weight of shimmering plate and 
glittering crystal. There was the romance of the old 
lurking in every quaintly delightful comer. The old 
colored servitors, who seemed fitted to the shades of 
this ancient Hall, were flitting noiselessly around, as 
the lawyer sought the presence of the two fair young 
women. In the perfunctory civilities of introduction, 
Hiram Bashford but casually noted the strained grav- 
ity of the local legal brethren, who stood before the 
"great gun'' in respectful awe. It was only after the 
party was at table that Bashford, having deferentially 
escorted Miss Madeleine to her place of honor, cast 
his keen eyes around the busy circle. To Philip Ware 
hospitality was but a mantle of Arabian grace, and, 
seated at his own board, the father's delighted eye 
rested in a secret pride upon the noble face of his only 
child. Sixty years had lightly passed over the one- 
time "pride of Yale." ,His pale face, delicately cVv^sd'^dL, 



16 CHECKED THROUGH. 

bespoke the world-avoiding man of bookish refine- 
ment Delicate, gentle, dreamy, slender of mould, 
and with a restless, glittering blue eye, Philip Ware^s 
mobile mouth and womanish chin told all the story of 
his yielding nature. It was only too true that ruder 
human clay had shattered his porcelain — ^that rougher 
men had easily elbowed him aside in the struggle for 
concrete wealth. The barren honors of local ermine 
had apparently justified his semi-retirement, and the 
drift of years was closing softly over him. His soli- 
tary life was a confession of defeat. Bashford noted 
the hawk-eyed successful practitioners gathered 
around the gentle scholar, and murmured once more, 
"Poor Philip!'' Yet, the simple dignity of the silver- 
haired Delaware gentleman, his exquisite grace, lifted 
him far up above the others, and he was fitly framed 
in these storied surroundings of the loyal old slave 
state. 

Counselor Bashford started suddenly as he caught 
the dull eyes of the local banker fixed hungrily upon 
Madeleine Ware. "That fellow wants to chase that 
beautiful girl down for himself," muttered Bashford; 
"and he has some hold on Ware!" Such was the light- 
ning judgment of the man who was trained to read 
masculine mendacity and feminine flimsiness with an 
unerring keenness of judgment. 

Robert Shearer, a gross, solid, lethargic man of 
forty, had the vulpine sleekness of the man of hard 
cash. His sensual, heavy face, round gray eyes and 
cautious leering manner unpleasantly jarred upon the 
lawyer. His mouth, a mere horizontal slit, was 
pressed tightly in steel trap fashion, but to Bashford 
there was a quick revelation in his appealing, hesitat- 
ing glances at the fair young daughter of the house, 
in marked contrast with the careless assumption of his 
confident manner in addressing his host. "A vulgar 
study in fats and oils !" mused Bashford — ^"and, withal, 
a fellow to be watched!" A general drabness and 
sleek grayness of overgrown ashy flesh tissue indi- 
cated that the great local financier had already reached 



CHECKED THROUGH. 17 

a position of pudgy self-satisfaction in life. "The sort 
of a fellow who thinks that he can now afford a dash- 
ing wife/' indignantly reflected the counselor. It was 
with a glow of some internal satisfaction that Bash- 
ford saw Miss Madeleine enact "My Lady Disdain," 
as a pendant to the picture of spirited hostility pre- 
sented by that frankly independent child of millions, 
Miss Florence Atwater. "He will, at any rate, never 
be bidden to Castle Atwater!" chuckled Bashford, as 
the choicest products of Maryland and Delaware 
moved over the table in a gastronomic review to de- 
light the soul of Brillant Savarin. 

With artful craft the New Yorker led his legal 
friends along a pleasant middle ground of chat, which 
judiciously excluded the country Rothschild. Mr. 
Robert Shearer, the phenomenal whale tumbling in 
the lazy waters of his golden pool, therefore divided 
his attention between the tempting dainties and the 
two provoking beauties. Bashford had instinctively 
retained himself in the coming cause of Shearer vs. 
Ware, and was in his heart, pledged already to the fair 
defendant. In affected nonchalance the visitor gath- 
ered a "bill of particulars" of the loveliness of the 
Ogontz classmates. "All that's best of dark and 
bright," murmured Hiram, forgetting his Kent and 
Story, and catching up an old filament of the moody By- 
ron. The lines fitted well. Madeline Ware, throned at the 
head of the old mahogany, clad in the artful simplicity 
of fleecy white robes, pleasantly returned his friendly 
glances from tender brown eyes gleaming under broad 
Greek brows. Something above the usual stature of 
Eve's daughters, her noble head was grandly poised 
upon a figure which recalled that armless goddess 
whom all men adore. A coronet of fair hair whereon 
the sunset glow lingered framed a face of rare woman- 
ly strength and sweetness. Hiram Bashford tenderly 
watched the rise and fall of the necklet of old Greek 
gems upon her snowy breast, and the unconscious 
sigh of his tribute was the final seal of his secretly 
volunteered devotion. 



18 CHECKED THROUGH. 

The fringing laces and silken robes of Miss Florence 
Atwater were of the color of the tasseled golden com. 
From out this burnished halo her dark beauty gleamed 
in a ripe intensity which startled the admiring eye. 
There was dewy crimson on her laughing lips, there , 
was a world of (lancing light in her splendid dark eyes, 
and she had diamond stars sparkling in the graceful 
tresses which curled over her laughing gypsy face. A 
rounded, petite, sparkling fairy of the night was this 
spoiled child of fortune. The mingled reserve and 
audacity of her manner proved that she had already 
learned the secret of her golden sceptre. "There is a I 
young princess who will not be easily denied," rumin- 
ated the anxious lawyer. "And I shall try to con- 
clude an alliance, defensive and offensive, forttTwith, 
with this charming young autocrat of steel and coaP 
For, before the long ceremonial dinner was over, 
dreaming Hiram Bashford had constructed invisible 
breastworks of love and tenderness around the noble 
girl whose steadfast eyes turned ever fondly toward the 
gallant faded host, who looked as if he had only now 
come down from one of the frames in the dusky draw- 
ing room. 

With some bit of retained social strategy, the Mas- 
ter of the Hall contrived to save a couple of hours for 
his visitor before midnight. When the beauties of 
Ogontz escaped at last from the drawn out adieu of 
Mr. Robert Shearer, they paused, a lovely pair of lin- 
gering nymphs, to flash secret search light signals of 
cheer to their self-devoted ally. "To-morrow, in the 
garden, at eight!" was the watchword, as Bashford, in 
solemn stateliness, raised their blue-veined hands in 
succession to his lips. Turning to his host, the lawyer j 
noted the burly form of Shearer lingering yet, in i 
farewell. His head was close to Philip Ware's anxious I 
face, and the only disjointed fragment of their conver- 
sation which reached the lawyer was: "See me, at 
once, about the Kaolin Company. Very important 
Don^t faiir 

"AhP mused Hiram Bashford, as he followed his 



CHECKED THROUGH. 19 

old friend to that chosen coign of vantage, the old 
library. "The Kaolin Company! I see! I see! I 
suppose Brother Shearer has let Phil *into a good 
thing!' I wonder if it is a bid for Miss Madeleine." 
And he thoughtfully cut his cigar and dalHed idly over 
a glass of peach brandy, while Philip Ware sought 
counsel of his silken-gray moustache, uneasily twisted 
under his trembling fingers. They were alone in the 
stillness of the night. From above, floated down an oc- 
casional ripple of girlish laughter, and Bashford, play- 
ing a waiting game, noted his friend's nervous start 
when Madeleine's voice occasionally reached him. 
The New York lawyer was reclining in a huge cordo- 
van leather arm chair and apparently intently studying 
the construction of smoke rings, when Philip Ware 
ceased his contemplation of a pair of busts of Wash- 
ington and Lafayette. 

"It was about Madeleine that I wished to speak with 
you," timidly began the host, as if he feared to break 
the thin ice of a father's delicate reserve. With a well- 
studied carelessness, Bashford threw all his friendly 
yearning into the one word, "Well?" But his ten- 
derly eager eyes betrayed him. He had silently accu- 
mulated in the three weeks of his visit a fund of un- 
spoken friendship for this Greek-browed daughter of 
Delaware. And, since his observation of Robert 
Shearer's crafty, vulgarly covetous glances, a red fire 
of wrath was already smouldering in his veins. For 
the local limbs of the law were mere social pawns to 
the distinguished visitor, but he had "sized up" the 
lumbering wooer with the eye of a Hawkshaw. 

"I presume that you will be surprised," slowly con- 
tinued Judge Ware, as if forcing himself unwillingly 
to speaic, "but, Madeleine wants to become a lawyer!" 

Hiram Bashford bounded from the cosy recesses of 
his great ami chair, and his dropped cigar instantly 
became the impelling cause of a small coi&agration in 
the tufted carpet. "Wants to become a what? Good 
God, Phil! What do you say?" broke out Bashford, 
as he pushed his strong, firm fingers through his mane 



20 CHECKED THROUGH. 

of iron-gray hair. "What in heaven's name ever put 
that nonsense into her head?" And the astounded 
counselor then picked up his cigar as if it were a tor- 
pedo, doubly loaded. 

"I thought that you would be astonished," meekly 
said Ware, with an air of humble apology. "I wasP 
roared Hiram Bashford, as he glared around in the 
throes of a great surprise. "Your daughter is the very 
last woman in the world that I thought would be given 
to that sort of — of — damned humbug!" energetically 
finished Bashford, whose extensive vocabulary had for 
once failed him. "I can surprise you still more," pla- 
cidly continued the host. "Madeleine already is bet- 
ter acquainted with both the theory and details of the 
law than many of our best practitioners — ^that is, the 
men down here!" finished Ware, with a saving clause. 

**How did she ever gain this peculiar knowledge?" 
most earnestly demanded Bashford, as he sternly 
searched the very inmost recesses of his old friend's 
eyes. The New York magnate was grave, even to 
solemnity. "You must know," slowly faltered Ware, 
"that my practice fell off greatly after I left the bench. 
I have been merely acting as counsel for years, and, 
ypu see, my law library is here." He waved his deli- 
cate hand in the direction of the dingy sheepskin vol- 
umes serried on the shelves. "When Madeleine left 
Ogontz she came back to me to brighten my lonely 
life." There were tears in the old lawyer's eyes. "That 
dear child, Hiram," he faltered, "by some hidden strat- 
egy, learned shorthand and typewriting as if by magic, 
and quietly installed herself as my secretary. She has 
always ranged through the library. It is my choicest 
possession. You see the house is a mere book mart 
Well, after these two years, since Florence went to 
Europe, I think that she knows a great deal more of 
practice than I do — and, perhaps as much law!" The 
father paused as if seeking to read the inscrutable face 
of his anxious listener. But stem Hiram Bashford's 
rugged heart was melted. He had caught at once the 
secret of the splendid woman's self-devotion. "A 



CHECKED THROUGH. 21 

modem Portia P' he mused. "God bless her! But 
not as yet for the love of any Bassanio!" It seemed 
to open a vista of undreamed of depths of love to the 
lonely man, this silent mingling of the fresh young life 
with the enfeebled vital mental current of the faded 
scholar. It spoke of a noble womanly self-devotion. 
Bashford's voice was strangely gentle as he said: "Go 
on, Philip ! Tell me all !" Philip Ware arose and paced 
the floor in a vague unrest. He finally found a voice 
for his warring thoughts as a merry "Good-night" was 
wafted from above in the ringing bird-like notes of that 
happy young princess, Miss Florence Atwater. "Made- 
leine wishes me now to consent to her classifying and 
perfecting her self-gained knowledge with a year of 
study, and, then, to allow her to use her talents — in — 
in oiu" own profession !" 

Bashford was seated with his massive head resting 
heavily on his hands. He gazed up frankly into the 
anxious father's eyes. "And she does it, why?" There 
was an imperious question in the sharp words. The 
accents of a man who demanded "the truth, the whole 
truth, and nothing but the truth." "To get away from 
Shearer, who insists on marrying her!" shamefacedly 
said the agitated parent. 

"You surely would not let her marry that stolid- 
looking brute?" cried Bashford, as he rose, towering 
above his host. "Has he spoken to her yet?" Ware 
shook his head. "No. But his wishes are only too 
evident. He is the one good match here," murmured 
Ware. "He bears a good public character, and is 
withal, a man of means!" 

"Damn his public character and his means!" stoutly 
cried Bashford. "Can't you see that this man is un- 
utterably beneath her?" The agitated father turned 
away his face as he replied in a low voice: "She cer- 
tainly has the strongest aversion to him, personally. 
But I am perplexed. I wish I could see any other way 
out!" There were lightning thoughts now chasing 
each other through the brain of the interested listener. 
"I think that I can see the way out," he grimly mut- 
tered. "See here. Ware !" vigorously cntd ^^^\\Vyt^> 



22 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"I must leave you to-morrow. I have taken a great 
fancy to your beautiful child. She looks strangely 
like — like — ^my dead — sister!*' he said, speaking as if 
in a dream. "But I must go! I will come down here 
soon again. I will then talk to her myself." There 
was a glow of sunlight, the sunlight of a new hope, on 
Philip Ware's sad face as he grasped his friend's hand. 
"I knew that you would help me," he gratefully mur- 
mured. "See here, Philip," sternly interrogated Bash- 
ford, "you are under no money obligations to this fel- 
low Shearer?" "No! No!" guardedly answered the 
host, and then that little matter of the "Kaolin Com- 
pany" seemed to return to Bashford's troubled mind 
"I can soon fix all that," he fiercely decided. "Yes! 
I will get into this little game and take a lone hand— 
against Mr. Robert Shearer!" But he firmly con-, 
trolled his rising indignation as he gravely said: 
"Philip, you have sacrificed your own splendid talents 
in this dreamy little forgotten corner state. Your no- 
ble child would shine out grandly in broader social cir^ 
cles than this Sleepy Hollow state can ever open tQ. 
her. She must not either marry this scrub or venture 
on a life of lonely pioneer effort in our profession. The 
way up is hard, and — the way in, is dark! Madeleine 
must have a change, fresh scenes, fresh hearts and new 
faces around her. She is young. The world is open 
to her! Don't you see that Robert Shearer, this over- 
grown toad in a local puddle, is not the only man in 
the wide world ! Let me aid you. I have a plan cal- 
culated to turn her away from the sterile paths of the 
law !" Bashford's face was glowing with a new ardor. 
"You do not approve, then, of these higher modem 
careers for women?" timidly hazarded Ware, as he re- 
signed himself to Bashford's masterly influence. "No!" 
thundered Hiram. "Go and look at Sonia Kovalefs- 
ky's lonely grave! The woman who finds out that she has 
a brain before she feels a heart throb of natural love is 
doomed to the final bitterness of despair. To be fa- 
mous first, to be loved later — the double event which 
had led so many gifted women to ruin! Let me save 
Madeleine.^^ 



CHECKED THROUGH. 28 



CHAPTER II. 

MADELEINE'S AWAKENING. 

Hiram Bashford left his friend with a silent hand 
grasp and yet growled audibly as he mounted the 
grand old oaken stairs. He turned to see the un- 
happy Philip Ware pacing the long hall in an earnest 
apostrophe to the shadow faces looking down on him. 
The great house was all still — from the deep caverned 
cellars to the moss-grown dormers where the swallows 
rested — ^as Bashford hurled aside his outer casements 
and then, fiercely wound up his watch. "PU wind you 
up, my son of Plutus,'* he rasped out. 'Toor Made- 
leine! The last of her line! No one to guard or ad- 
vise! If Ware should be called away, who would care 
whether she stumbled on to the reefs of ruin and error! 
Strange!" he mused. "The dry rot of our old families 
proves that something is wrong in our flimsy social 
system ! Ah !" he resolutely ejaculated, as he heard the 
last chirp of that pretty night warbler, Miss Florence. 
"I have it! Pll make this little millionairess carry 
Madeleine away to Castle Atwater! And there, she 
will have no end of a good time! Yes! That is the 
best scheme!*' And so, with a mighty puff, Bashford 
blew out his bedroom candles, as if he were scattering 
the stolid Shearer in dust and ashes over the face of 
the earth. "He shall never have her!'* was the last 
growl of the legal bear, as he rolled himself up to dream 
of the discomfiture of the cashier. "Pll watch over 
that Kaolin business, too!" he muttered, as he drifted 
out upon the tossing sea of uneasy dreams. 

Below him, while the stout lawyer tossed and sighed, 
Philip Ware was still there keeping a silent vigil before 
the fading picture which shone out to his loving eyes, 
limned in the unfading colors of a life-long love. 

"Poor Maddy !" sighed the lonely man, as he strained 
his eyes until he fancied that a newer tenderness 



24 CHECKED THROUGH. 

beamed down upon him from the sweet face of the 
mother whom the girl had never known. "Alone in 
the world! And — after me! What? For — ^there's 
the Kaolin Company! Those notes! I can not tell 
Hiram now! If I had not gone out over my depth! 
Perhaps, at the worst, Florence may help her, and Hi- 
ram — Hiram, too, will be a friend!" Seated at the 
table, in the lonely library, the father's fajjfee dropped 
upon his wasted hands. "My God! • I dalre not tell 
him all! He will come again. Perhaps he may find 
out himself and then offer to help me!" The warning 
cock had crowed long before Philip Ware sought his 
own room. The last candle had burned out when he 
awoke with a start and groped his way up the stair. 
Behind him he heard in the silent night the rustle of 
panther feet, the spectres of Ruin and Despair. It was 
known but to the prospective wooer Shearer, and to 
his own racked bosom, that the Kaolin Company, in 
which he had madly ventured his patrimony, was "on 
its last legs!" Philip Ware paused stealthily at Made- 
leine's door. He knew that sacred room, hung with 
its maiden drapings of spotless white. "Maddy, dar- 
ling! I have been false to my trust! My own poor 
darling!" he whispered, as he breathed a prayer which 
his lips could not frame in words, that God would 
shield that one dear, defenseless head. And so, with 
all his sad misgivings weighing down a loving heart, 
the Master of the old Hall sought the shelter of the great 
chambers which had cradled his ancestors for two hun- 
dred years. 

"I must see Shearer at once. Yes! As soon as 
Bashford leaves; but what can I do? If he presses 
me for Madeleine's hand — if the notes cannot be re- 
newed — then — then, my last hope is in Hiram!" In 
the merciful sleep of exhaustion the last of the Mas- 
ters of the old Hall slept long after the burly New 
Yorker was up and pacing the fragrant garden walks, 
now eager to keep his double tryst. 

Over his morning coffee, and while his man, at spe- 
cial instance, added a few decorative touches to a 



CHECKED THROUGH. 25 

hasty toilet, Hiram Bashford had finished laying all 
the sunken mental torpedoes designed to blow Mr. 
Robert Shearer's matrimonial plans into minute 
"smithereens." The great advocate was a man accus- 
tomed to have his way. He had early grasped the truth 
that the world recognizes a masterful man. "King, 
prince and potentate, whom he smote, he overthrew," 
and, in confidence born of unvarying success, Bash- 
ford felt in his heart that Mr. Robert Shearer was now 
mentally disposed of. "He shall not have her! That's 
all!" boldly decided the stem lawyer. "As for her 
Quixotic yearning towards Blackstone, why that's an- 
other matter. I must be very gentle there!" 

On his way to the rencontre of the two lovely Auro- 
ras, Hiram revolved the pros and cons of this strange 
ambition. A bit of reminiscence of a Biblical nature 
soon convinced him that if he was not "his brother's 
keeper," he was certainly not the "autocrat of his sis- 
ter's future!" Reflecting that the Greek-browed girl 
had perhaps a will of her own, he pondered the best 
means of gently turning her from the thorny path of 
the law. "She will not storm or haggle. She will 
simply go ahead, as she has done for two long years of 
drudgery. I must recognize her labors of love! It 
is noble! Where do these women get their prescience 
of coming disaster? They are always the best judges 
of the shakiness of things!" Hiram had already decid- 
ed that "things were very shaky" at the Hall, finan- 
cially, Ware's feeble denial, notwithstanding. "It^s 
this Kaolin nonsense, I suppose," he mused, as he 
sought for the nymphs who had pledged their tryst. 
"I can easily stand in there, by and by. I'll force the 
truth out of Philip when I come down again. But, I 
must now gain this girl's confidence and sympathize 
with her longings." It suddenly occurred to Bashford 
that in the last twenty years women had forced their 
way, against a heavy pressure, into many of the most 
famous universities ; that the professional woman class 
had quintupled in Europe; that it had increased fifty- 
fold in nervous America, and that Tennyson's "Prin- 



26 CHECKED THROUGH. 

cess'' was now more than a mere idle allegory, a poet's 
prophecy. He found himself then asking, **Why not?" 
when he reflected upon the splendid scholastic laurels 
of this newer generation of women students. "They 
will finally get their legal and property rights! Should 
have had them long ago ! The right to the ownership 
of their own bodies, and the stewardship of their own 
souls! They will win the ballot yet! Why should not 
this same noble girl be a successful pioneer *star' of the 
forum or the council room?" As he suddenly ob- 
served Miss Florence Atwater, one of Diana's loveliest 
attendants, darting down upon him, from mere force 
of habit he remarked: "It's all damned nonsense! The 
girl must be made to marry well, and have a good 
home! That's the true feminine metier." 

For his old views as to the use of a husband to a 
bright woman, in the long battle of life, returned. He, 
an untried bachelor, fancied vaguely that any kind of a 
husband was better than none at all. He assigned the 
husband to the duties of the heavy artillery in the great 
conflicts of the battle field. Not a vital necessity, but 
a supporting element — useful to make a good deal of 
noise, to terrify the opposing elements, and to gener- 
ally support, at all vital turning points of the conflict. 

Lifting his hat with a courtly grace, Bashford recog- 
nized the dash and impulsive manner of the ardent 
Pennsylvanian heiress, as she pounced down upon him, 
for, at the farther end of a leafy avenue, Madeleine 
Ware, serene and tender, was coming on in stately 
guise, as if the spirit of the lovely morning guided her 
measured advance. She lingered there among the 
flowers she loved so well. "It's a good idea! I will 
finish up with the little Pennsylvanian first," decided 
the lawyer. 

Hiram Bashford at once won young Miss Millions' 
heart in the graceful address with which he welcomed 
her. In his artful way, he quickly assumed the exist- 
ence of a delightful secret understanding between 
them. It thrilled the pretty tyrant to be in the place of 
"associate counsel" with a man of national reputation. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 27 

"I must speak with Miss Madeleine soon, on an affair 
of some moment, my dear young lady!" said Hiram. 
"I shall return here, in a few days, to confer with my 
dear old classmate, and as I hear you are soon going 
back to your own home, I frankly tell you that I wish 
you to carry your friend away for a good long visit! It 
will be a useful diversion now!'^ 

Miss Florence Atwater opened her pretty lips to 
categorically demand "why?" — as she paralyzed the 
lawyer with a searching glance of her splendid eyes. 
Miss Madeleine had only smiled and nodded, as she 
disappeared again among her sister roses. Bash- 
ford was soon as wax in the sweet little woman's 
hands. His armor melted away under her impassioned 
glance of eagerness. 

"Because I do not wish her to marry this clown, 
Shearer," frankly admitted the lawyer, taking his cold 
plunge into the waters of truth, "I hope that you will 
take her to your enchanted castle, of which I have 
heard so much,'' — Miss Atwater bowed in a proud 
humility — "and — find her a good husband to be." 

"You have talked with Judge Ware! You will try 
to dissuade her from the legal career she wishes to take 
up!" flashed out Miss Florence, making a vicious 
feint at a stray weed, with her Paris sun shade. 

Bashford drew a long breath, at this thrust of the 
sharp-eyed girl's rapier. "Not at all, my dear young 
lady!" he said, in a meek humility, which soon dis- 
armed her. "I regard her as an extremely gifted 
woman! I sympathize with all her ambitions, and, — 
I would like not only to aid her, but also to help her 
father, who is my dearest college friend! So few are 
left now," sighed the lawyer, glancing at the semi-hos- 
tile face of the little patrician. "I will be very frank! 
I fear that Judge Ware is greatly embarrassed about 
his dear child's future! I assure you that I would 
help — not hinder! I have no one to work for — no one 
to share my lonely years. Who would be dear to me, 
if not this sweet child of my lifelong friend?" 

Miss Florence Atwater impulsively grasped Bash 



28 CHECKED THROUGH. 

ford's great hand in her two rosy palms. She minded 
not the bird of paradise parasol which fluttered down 
before her dainty feet "I did not think that I should 
like you. You are so stem, so serious/' she candidly 
said, with a smile which was a temptation, and brought 
back a waft of vanished youth to the anxious man, who 
had "succeeded" in his simple earnest words, "but, I do 
like you! And I will take Maddy away with me! 
And, ril help you always, on two conditions.'' Bash- 
ford smiled in a frank surrender to the pretty autocrat. 
"Name them. Miss Florence,'* he said softly, as she 
still held his hand. "You are to come yourself, sir, and 
see us at Castle Atwater, as you call it." The lawyer 
bowed. "I promise on my sacred word and honor," 
he vowed with mock school-boy devotion. "And you 
are to help her study law. I think it's just grand, and 
noble. That's what I think." Miss Florence cast a 
defiant glance around which swept away all hostile 
comment from whatever source. "Well, we will see 
about it!" good humoredly replied the advocate. "No! 
No!" persisted his beautiful little tyrant. "You are to 
help me. I am to help you. That's all. Promise! 
Promise !" And the strong man, at the bidding of the 
sweet witch, bowed his head and kissed the warm little 
hand of his conqueror. "I promise. There! Will 
that make us friends?" Hiram Bashford stood lost in 
a dream as the girl said: "You are just a darling, dear 
lawyer, you are! It will be glorious for Madeleine. 
I'll make Judge Ware promise me before you go to- 
day to give me Maddy for a month.'' And she then 
fled away with her budget of good news, crying, "I will 
drive you down to the station and we can then talk it 
all over." 

Counselor Bashford seated himself in an arbor with a 
feeling of sinking at the heart. His secret plan of cam- 
paign had been ruthlessly smashed by the loving ve- 
hemence of the child of fortune. "By heavens! She 
has some of her father's dash and spirit," laughed the 
defeated man. He laid hands on the leading-strings 
of everything around him. And his brain was throng- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 29 

ing with new thoughts, strange to his olden code, as 
regarded womanhood, when Madeleine Ware ap- 
proached with a happy light shining in the beautiful 
brown eyes. "Am I changed? Are the ways of women 
different?'^ the lawyer mused. "Autre temps, autre 
moeurs," he murmured, as he rose and greeted the 
grateful woman. "You have made me so happy,'' 
frankly said the modern Portia, as she seated herself 
by the side of her visitor. "Florence has told me of 
your kind promise to aid me," she softly said, with 
downcast eyes. "I trust not all of my unconditional 
surrender,'* was Bashford's despairing hope, but his 
heart leaped up as the delighted girl continued, "About 
your interest in my proposed path in life." 

A sense of the sacredness of the confidence of that 
womanly young heart now glowing with a noble ardor, 
touched the great lawyer to the quick. For he saw in 
her sunrise face the glowing light of a noble ambition — 
of a desire to use all the ten talents, if Grod had so en- 
dowed her, to the utmost of her untried powers. Here 
was no flippant self assertion. There was no vulgar 
curiosity leading this daughter of an old line out into 
the active struggle of life. Her steadfast, reverent, self- 
inspired trust in the future impressed him strangely, 
in the hush of the beautiful mom. They were all alone, 
for with the infinite resources of her many arts, Miss 
Florence Atwater had darted away, a bright Uhlan, 
to pounce down upon gentle Philip Ware, who was al- 
ready her bond slave, and nail him to the pillory of 
honor with a promise to give Madeleine over to the 
gilded glories of Castle Atwater for a long month. 
"Let me ask you, my child," gravely said Bashford, 
"are there many of your sex so minded now, as to 
the law? Is this only an idea born of your father's 
companionship ?" 

"Why, no!" frankly said Madeleine. "Womanhood 
is everywhere advancing its lines and banners in many 
other directions than mere social sway. Vassar, Smith, 
Barnard and Wellesley — all our woman's colleges — are 
crowded with earnest students. In England wometv 



30 CHECKED THROUGH. 

are to-day taking hard-won degrees by the score. Ger- 
many is falling into line, and even in France the in- 
tellectual woman is no longer a mere isolated prodigy. 
It is not clamor, Judge Bashford. It is a petition of 
natural right now. The right not to live on in dolls' 
houses as dependent upon the mere whim of a hus- 
band, even though we are petted and strung with 
jewels. Will you tell me why a woman cannot freely 
enter upon a reputable professional career?*' And 
when she fixed her steadfast eyes upon him, glowing 
in a frank enthusiasm, for once in his life Hiram Bash- 
ford found himself without words. He simply said: 
"I will help you, my dear child, if I can, to justify the 
birthright of your splendid talents. Tell me all, that I 
may at least know one woman's heart. Speak to me 
as one who would know the inmost beatings of the 
pulse which tells you every fond hope." He had for- 
gotten all his strategy and was, for the second time 
on this sweet morning, as clay in the hands of the pot- 
ter, which demonstrated, in spite of his olden prej- 
udices, that a noble heart was the companion of his 
fine mind, for he had found the way to be just, moved 
by the gentle pleading of the maiden's clear-lit eyes. 

Hiram Bashford, an hour later, held serious com- 
mune with himself, as he closed the details of his bache- 
lor packing. An overcoat, a check book and a black 
bag, equally stuffed with the best cigars and the most 
closely-knit legal papers, were his usual campaign out- 
fit. His Delaware social occultation had brought down 
his man and his Websterian wardrobe of statesmanlike 
cut. As he smoothed his tangled iron gray hair, be- 
fore the ordeal of a good-bye at breakfast, the law- 
yer pondered over the frank outpourings of the girPs 
heart. "God bless her!" he murmured. "With such a 
head and heart, she will make herself either the very 
happiest or unhappiest woman I know." He was 
vainly demanding of himself the outcome hid far away 
in the misty future, but down in his deep-welled heart 
he had registered a vow to aid the Greek-browed gixl 
in treading a path which he feared would soon be a 



CHECKED THROUGH. 31 

lonely one. He had been astounded at the calm 
mental poise of this self-instructed Portia and he saw 
a clear reason now for further mixing up in Philip 
Ware's affairs. "She, the bright, brave girl, would help 
him, why not I?'' And, to that end, he sought the 
library, where Philip Ware was already entrenched 
behind the Elzevirs of his first love and those yellow 
sheepskin volumes which had never been but unwel- 
come step-children. Marching directly on to his point, 
Bashford said gravely after his Good morning: "I 
have had a long talk with Madeleine. I am going to 
come down soon again and see you, but, only on one 
condition, Philip." His voice was very gentle when 
he answered the interrogation of Ware's eyes. "Prom- 
ise me that if you get into any tangle with this Kaolin 
concern — if you are at all harassed by this chap 
Shearer — ^that you will let me help you out, and, mark 
me, help you in time." Philip Ware's stately head 
was bowed as he murmured, "I will, Hiram. You have 
my word." Bashford's face then lit up with a sudden 
glow of satisfaction. "And, as to Madeleine. Do 
you find her hopes promising from your standpoint?" 
"I find them so filled with new truths, with the glow of 
ideas yet strange to me, so promising, that I wish to 
keep her to the wish of her brave heart. I see no rea- 
son why she should not vindicate her claims to in- 
tellectual distinction. I can do this, if you, dear old 
friend, will allow me to earn her confidence, to be a 
sharer of all her veiled aspirations." Bashford's eyes 
were very kindly now. 

"There's no one but you, Hiram," said Philip Ware, 
sadly, as he rose with a glance at the hateful clock 
And the silent pledge of the night before was once 
more renewed. "I have to go down to MiddletO'Am 
for a few days on some business," remarked the Mas- 
ter of the Hall with an affected unconcern. "So you 
must either write or telegraph me when to expect you, 
and I beg you to prove to me that your Delaware days 
have been made pleasant. Come again. This quiet 
house is yours, when you will.'' Above, in the secret 



32 CHECKED THROUGH. 

parliament of the Ogontz graduates, at that very mo- 
ment, Miss Florence Atwater was affixing the very last 
bit of her harmless war paint, preparatory to driving 
the departing legal luminary down to the station. She 
astounded Miss Madeleine Ware by the calm declara- 
tion of a sudden predilection for the sturdy visitor, 
which had leaped into life, that very morning. 

"Maddy," she said decisively, as she pushed a great 
hatpin through one of Virot's most recent triumphs, 
"that is the sort of man I should like to marry. A man 
of heart and brains, a man of whom any woman could 
be proud. Of course, he's too old and all that, and, I 
suppose they will pester me till I choose among the 
men whom my lordly kin select for me, chosen from 
a 'railroad and pig iron' standpoint. I just love him — 
for his manly fairness to you — ^and, his great considera- 
tion. There! I mean it!" And Miss Atwater then 
fluttered away downstairs, with certain extempore 
roulades, which caused the wondering Bashford to 
fancy that a cage of warblers had just made a wild dash 
for freedom. Behind this dashing, lovely feminine 
hussar, Madeleine Ware came slowly down with 
happy, steadfast eyes, and a glow on her fair cheeks 
as of a sunrise flush upon the silver peaks of the Jung- 
frau. The New York lawyer was forced to admire 
the aplomb with which Miss Florence Atwater at the 
table gracefully led out the pledge wrung from the 
gentle host that his daughter should taste the waiting 
joys and dazzling splendors of the little Pennsylva- 
nian's stronghold. "You young strategist," muttered 
Bashford as Ware, helpless in this fairy^s hands^ "un- 
conditionally surrendered." 

On the threshold of the stately old mansion, hal- 
lowed by the unviolated hospitality of all the storied 
years, Bashford said adieu, for a brief time only, and 
then left the father and daughter standing there heart 
to heart, and hand in hand, linked in the invisible bond 
of golden love. It was a touching picture. The once 
strong man leaning upon the bright, brave girl who 
would gladly bring to his aid the freshness of her 



CHECKED THROUGH. 33 

Jendid mind, glowing in the bright flood-tide of a 
eerless youth. But Miss Atwater^s firm little hands 
uided the flying ponies, and the parthian darts of her 
iamond-splintered conversation were hurled directly 
t the man who was under the enchantment of these 
vo dissimilar Lorelei. Demurrers and indictments, 
recedents and cases had never seemed so unwelcome 
1 their hideously intertwined complexity as on this 
reezy morning, when the resolute little millionairess 
eliberately cross-examined him with the hardihood 
f a Root, a Choate or a Coudert. In amused em- 
arrassment, Bashford cautiously answered, in the pro- 
ortion of one to five, some of the eager queries of his 
Darkling-eyed companion. "This girl will pin me 
I a corner ind then leave me impaled forever, helpless 
pon either horn of the dilemma, unless I take only 
er easiest questions," he smilingly decided. He art- 
illy wiggled away from the imperious demand to 
now why woman was not the mental equal of man, 
nd several other thrusts which smote him under the 
rmor of the superior sex very sorely. He sadly 
iswered the question as to the final outcome of su- 
erior mental gifts to individual women. "I fear the 
icord of the past, Miss Florence, has been that the 
nusually gifted woman is destined to lead a life which 

only one long-drawn-out agony. George Sand, 
reorge Eliot, Marie Bashkirtseff, Sonya Kovalefsky, 
rCtitia Landon, Margaret Fuller, Madame de Stael, 
U of these seem to have laid aside the laurel of genius, 
t last, to vainly grope for the myrtle of love. These 
id countless others have proved only that the ultimate 
rength of a chain is its weakest, not its strongest, 
nk.'* "Then, you would dissuade woman from seek- 
ig the higher path," sharply said Miss Florence, ac- 
sntuating the question with a stinging cut to her 
onies. 

"By no means," gravely replied Bashford. "Because 
le race is now barred to women, it does not prove 
lat they cannot run. If it has been barred, it does not 
rove It will be so, always. The fact oi tVve ^e^'wA 



34 CHECKED THROUGH. 

exclusion of women from past active professional and 
intellectual careers does not prove such exclusion to 
be warranted by either law or justice, natural or divine. 
It is humiliating to see a world hang entranced on 
the shady memories of a Helen of Troy, a Mary 
Stuart, a Recamier, a Josephine, and then ignore a 
Vittoria Colonna, a Browning, a Krudener, a de Stael. 
Permit me, my dear child, to remark,'* said Bashford, 
"it is woman herself, who has set up this false standard 
in yielding to the personal desire to fascinate, the gen- 
eral effort to please. Moreover, there never yet was 
giant masculine intellect, great conqueror, or repre- 
sentative man who did not throw himself helplessly at 
the feet of mere beauty and humbly sue for the 
womanly love of his enslaver. Ah! The secret his- 
tory of the great! The loves denied have changed the 
fate of other nations besides those where a willing 
Thais drew a conquering Alexander to her glowing 
breast." 

"You then think that the woman's passions, her 
facile heart, her loves, stable or unstable, will always 
sway or dominate her head,'' said the anxious g^rl. 

"It is love, in the active or passive form ; love that is 
positive, or else the negative love turned to hate, which 
has locked the fetters so often on the wrists of great 
women. And only those whose heads have tempered 
their wandering hearts have 'arrived' at last. Semira- 
mis, Cleopatra, Elizabeth of England; that greatest 
of woman rulers and rakes, Catherine of Russia — ^all 
these, played off the one nature against the other. 
And, ruled and loved." 

"I see our goal nearing," smiled Florence. "Do you 
then advise modem women to shun the individual 
career? Must all fail because some do? Why should 
women, under our more liberal modern ideas, not face 
this unanswered question fairly, and many, very many, 
succeed?" 

Bashford answered y slowly, "I admit that scores, 
nay hundreds, of women are now better fitted for a 
career than many fairly successful professional men, 



CHECKED THROUGH. 35 

and have greater natural gifts. Competitive examina- 
tions and scholastic records prove this. Certainly, 
woman needs more scope. Her talents should have 
the fairest field, her hearing be patient and untram- 
meled. But it's, after all, only a question of self- 
control and staying power in the long run. We can 
easily grant to all women of talent a fair field. We 
can give educated woman more scope. She may even 
adopt the new social code which allows her to refuse 
the inevitable yoke of marriage, to delay or turn away 
the natural tide of womanly affection, but, what will 
ever control her double nature but her own self? 
Man's simple, selfish, practical persistence leads him 
on to the nearest mark set by interest or ambition. 
The woman's nature is duplex. Her affections are 
mutable and varying. Her strong desire for love and 
companionship sways with hidden forces the emotional 
womanly heart. Every woman is a mystery to her- 
self, and the fable of King Cophetua and the beggar 
girl is often reversed. Hamlet's mother easily declmed 
upon a lower nature in an illogical self-surrender. The 
strongest brained women sink the deeper in these un- 
equal marriages. Singular gifts to your charming sex 
often bring a fatal blindness in choosing a man to 
trust. No, Miss Florence," said the lawyer decisively, 
"there is always *the coming man' hovering between 
a i^eat woman and any life path marked out 'on the 
heights.' Marriage is not the destiny of every woman, 
but the possibility of marriage is at once her goad, her 
fond dream and — her tyrant. Look at the sudden 
descent to natural emotions, to the merely conven- 
tional code of marriage, in George Eliot's riper age, 
when she chose a man unheard of in her own in- 
tellectual world, and a score of years her junior, as an 
idol to look up to. We can all trust women, when they 
can trust themselves," gravely said Bashford, as the 
ponies were adroitly pulled up at the train. Miss 
Florence Atwater sat pouting and dissatisfied, whip 
in hand. "You have not told me half the things I must 
know. I shall claim the rest at my home. I wish to 



36 CHECKED THROUGH. 

speak to you about my own marriage, about all these 
other things, too." 

"As to your marriage, my dear young prospective 
hostess," laughed Bashford, "I predict it, with great 
confidence. You will marry soon." 

"Not until I have looked carefully into the subject, 
Judge," very defiantly rejoined the young seeker after 
truth. "And not until I have had a very pleasant time, 
for a couple of seasons," added the little queen. As 
Bashford's man approached with the tickets, the law- 
yer whispered: "You will marry before this appointed 
time, with your own heartfelt consent, and, like all 
ladies, break the rules you set up yourself." Miss 
Florence only laughed merrily as she gave both her 
slender hands to the departing guest. "I like you, be- 
cause you have not trifled with me. You and I must 
help Madeleine. I will tell you a great secret," and 
she stood up on tip toes to whisper. "If I did not 
have all this money and the other things, you know, 
I would study law with Madeleine. I do believe that 
we women have a right to show the world what we 
can do." 

Hiram Bashford deliberately raised her hands and 
kissed them, gloves and all. "You would demoralize 
my profession," he said almost tenderly. "I thank 
(jod Madeleine has your love and friendship for a 
mantle. She may need it." "But you will help her 
for my sake?" pleaded the generous girl. "For your 
sake, for her own dear sake, and for the sake of her 
noble father, my lifelong friend." The train then bore 
the visitor swiftly away, leaving Miss Florence gazing 
after its thundering course with kindling eyes. And 
her graceful memory clung to the departing man so 
that the long way to New York was haunted by the 
bright smile of the fresh-hearted girl. Miss Florence, 
on that very evening, bore away Madeleine Ware in 
triumph to the shady glens and splendid lawns of her 
wealth-gemmed walls at Williamsport. The happy 
parting of the little circle was only the earnest of the 
promised reunion and the future shone out never so 



CHECKED THROUGH. 37 

fcur before them all. There was all the brightness of 
life and love clinging to the two happy women as they 
wandered under the stars that night in the lovely 
wildness of Castle Atwater's gardens. With tenderest 
love, a joint telegram was dispatched to the lonely 
Hall, where Philip Ware mused alone, thankful that 
a new shield had now been lifted up between his darl- 
ing child and the blackening clouds of that future 
which in his secret misgivings he had feared to face. 
And Shearer's suit lost some of its terrors. "He must 
not ruin Madeleine's life," mused Judge Ware. 

Hiram Bashford sat late at dinner that night in a 
vantage coign of his favorite New York club. It 
seemed to him that the light of a newer day was now 
shining upon him. The fresh hopes and audacious be- 
liefs of the two aspiring women whom he had quitted so 
lately seemed to throw down the olden walls of his 
mental isolation. By a strangely happy chance he 
had fallen upon one of Yale's brightest and best pro- 
fessors as a dinner guest. Grimly ejaculating, "I will 
now go to school a little," Bashford bore off his prey 
in triumph. For this scholar, a sound, ripe man, he 
had known and loved for years. He was one who lived 
in a daily touch with the men and women of the later 
day. A man bound to his fellow men by all the bonds 
of a hearty, cordial brotherly love. And deftly did 
Bashford ply this escaped college don with question 
on question, until he glowed himself with a newly-Ht 
fire of budding enthusiasm. Over the oysters and 
Chablis, Bashford darted his queries born of the 
strange communion with the young innocents. All 
the way back to his lonely home the great lawyer pon- 
dered that night on the Professor's parting words. "I 
cannot guarantee the final success of educated women 
in the open struggle of later professional life," the Don 
summed up, "but I do know that hundreds of women 
are far beyond our medium masculine students now 
— far and away beyond. There's no question of their 
mental fitness. As to the practical question of indis- 
criminate business association, women must meet that 



88 CHECKED THROUGH. 

themselves by new social regulations and a wisely tem- 
pered self-control. The mere society women, the oc- 
cupants of luxurious homes, the attractive women of 
our splendid private life, are not even there free from 
insidious social assault or vicious temptation. The 
professional woman only has to guard herself sim- 
ilarly and be always true to herself. I learned after 
twenty years my own declared mistake as to the matter 
of co-education. The once hostile college presidents 
of America are beginning to admit that the grave dis- 
orders supposed to accompany the free mingling of 
the sexes in our halls of learning have never appeared. 
It is but just to the women students of America to 
say that they have banished that old-time bugaboo, 
and I have put myself on record thereto officially. It 
only rests with the modern woman to make herself 
great, and to still remain guarded in wisdom, fortified 
with a stable character. God speed them all on their 
upward way in this broadening path. Equal rights, 
equal pay, equal meed for work well done, is my 
motto.'' 

It so fell out that Hiram Basniord dreamed long 
and happily that night of the fair one and the dark 
one, whose kindly eyes followed him even in his 
dreams, and he slept the sleep of the just and right- 
eous man. He recked not in his welcome rest that 
Philip Ware sat far away, shut up alone in his library, 
under the fading glimmering lamps of midnight, with 
a blank sorrow convulsing his worn features. There 
was a crushing disaster to face! 

For the loving telegram of the two happy girls had 
fluttered down to his feet, and he clutched in his trem- 
bling hands the village evening paper, in which, fiar- 
ingly displayed, were the ominous words, "Failure of 
the Middletown Kaolin Company.'' 

His ashen lips only moved at last to murmur, "Ruin, 
beggary, and — my Madeleine will soon be homeless." 
It was a defeated, shrinking, hopeless man who pain- 
fully climbed to the care-haunted bed chamber above 
that night, as he aimlessly faltered, "Yes, I must go 



CHECKED THROUGH. 39 

down there at once. I must see Shearer. Yes, at 
once," for he even now, feared to tell Hiram Bashford^ 
that the Hall domain was swept away in this final 
calamity. "Those notes, those notes, that fatal spec- 
ulation,'' was the refrain of the last sleepless night 
which he was doomed to pass under the friendly shel- 
ter of the quaint old homestead of his happy boyhood. 
For, the house of Ware was not founded on the rock 
of a successful miserly common sense. He was not 
of the preyers, but of the preyed upon, in this bubble 
world of ours. The old Delaware gentleman's silken 
armor of courtesy and faith in all men was not proof 
against the sly fence of the banditti of the money mar- 
ket, the merciless gladiators of gain. It was late 
when Philip Ware left his darkened home to meet the 
swarming sharks now fighting over the spoils of the 
bubble Kaolin Company, into which he had ventured 
at the suggestion of his false friend, Mr. Robert 
Shearer. 

He had wandered through the vacant halls of his 
birthplace vainly seeking for the presence of the dear 
nestling who had brought all the brightness into his 
lonely life. "Poor Maddy," he whispered, as he stood 
alone in that vacant room which was still haunted by 
the presence of the high-souled child whom he had 
ruined. He stooped and picked up a blue ribbon 
which her hand had lightly cast away in the hurry of 
departure. "She is spared at least one day's sorrow." 
And he straightway sent a message to the telegraph 
office, whose loving words filled the heart of his ab- 
sent child with happiness in those far away blue 
Pennsylvanian hills. He had softly closed the door 
of that virginal room, whose freshness and maidenly 
simplicity of arrangement spoke to him in the elo- 
quent silence of his throbbing heart. "I must ^o and 
lay to save something out of the wreck^something for 
Maddy." 

Old Reuben, proud of the glossy blacks fretting at 
the door, was struck with the ashen pallor of the 
Master's face, as he turned at the door as it to Itv- 



40 CHECKED THROUGH. 

voke the aid of his shadowy ancestors in the coming 
hours of trial. "Perhaps Shearer will not press the 
notes," he vainly murmured, as he painfully clambered 
into the victoria. Yet at his heart, there was a gloomy 
foreboding that the price of favor might be a slavish 
support in the lumbering love-making of this crafty 
speculator who now had him in his power. It was the 
bitterest anguish of all. 

"There's something wrong with the Squire," 
mourned old Reuben, as he drove away in silence. 
"I never saw him look like that." And something was 
wrong with the Squire, as he wrangled late that after- 
noon with the disgruntled ravens pouncing on the 
wreck of the Kaolin Company at Middletown village. 
There was a lonely vigil that night in which the de- 
feated, despairing man at last found refuge in the 
thought, "I will go on at once to New York and tell 
Hiram Bashford the story of my fatal folly." And 
one dear, beloved head rested afar that night in happy, 
rosy dreams, buoyed up by girlish hope — dreams des- 
tined to a sad awakening. 



CHAPTER in. 

COUNSELOR BASHFORD WEAKENS. 

Morning, bright, golden and serene, rolled up the 
curtains of the crimson East and flashed golden jave- 
lins against the windows of Hiram Bashford's stately 
New York home. Rosy and rugged, the counselor, 
in great good humor, commenced a half hour with the 
busy world over his Herald, reinforced the flesh with 
a measured breakfast of substantial cheer, and then 
departed to struggle with the devil in his fortressed 
legal den, hung high in air on William Street. The 
Sun God lovingly called up the two Ogontz com- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 41 

rades to the companionship of the roses already nod- 
ding expectant of them in the leafy gardens of Castle 
Atwater. And the lances of the sun darted in later, at 
the gloomy, shadowed windows of a dingy Middle- 
town inn, where Philip Ware awoke to the crushing 
realization of a disaster which would sweep away the 
last stronghold of his line. 

The old Squire was early astir, for he now awaited 
the final dictation of Robert Shearer, plausible in the 
past, truculent and insolent in the hour of trouble. 
There was scant ceremony in Shearer's morning greet- 
ing when the two men met. The man of money was 
morosely vulgar. 

"Of course, I will have to stay here and protect the 
interests of the bank,'' said Shearer, after a perfunctory 
nod. "I see no use in you lingering here. There's 
not much to be done now." He regarded Ware with 
the quiet satisfaction of a man who held the "whip- 
hand" at last, and had a purpose in his demeanor. 
The ruined Squire had pleaded on the first jarring en- 
counter for various schemes of extension and delay. 
It seemed to him so strange that the roseate aureole 
of prosperity had vanished forever from the venture 
whose carefully worded prospectus had been worded 
"to the queen's taste." "Is there no way to set up 
the company on a new basis?" anxiously pleaded the 
ruined man. "Well, Ware, you know how these 
things go," said Shearer. "I fancy that the bank will 
have to buy the whole concern in. It might go ahead 
then. That is," he cautiously said, "with the old stock 
wiped out. The thing will now at least pay expenses. 
But the original holders ought to be lucky if they get 
out without future suits for a pro rata assessment." 
Philip Ware now knew the whole record of misman- 
agement, of the dead counter currents, from the very 
first, of the cautiously secured claims of the local Na- 
tional Bank, just as fiercely ravenous as any of the 
larger cormorants of the money tyranny. "And my 
notes, my notes," he murmured. "Well, you know 
there's no use crying over spilled milk. They mu?*! 



42 CHECKED THROUGH. 

be met. I must protect the bank, you know.'' And 
the heavy-jowled Mr. Robert Shearer strutted to the 
window, thrusting his pudgy hands in his pockets. 
He looked out toward those far Pennsylvanian moun- 
tains which hid from him the woman his sullen heart 
burned for. He thought now that he saw a shorter 
way to the altar than before the crash of the rotten 
Kaolin concern. The spectacle of the future Mrs. 
Robert Shearer submissively maneuvering the tea 
cups at his table, ere he departed to assume the morn- 
ing scepter of financial control at Wilmington's one 
"solid" bank, was a delightful vision of the coming 
time. 

"Can you not get me a little time — ^time to turn 
around, and try and save my home?" pleaded the 
ruined lawyer. "Well, if you can get two good names 
on the notes, I may ask the bank to extend them a 
year, as good assets — interest paid, and all that,'' re- 
plied the cashier. "I will see what I can do," abjectly 
faltered Ware. "It is ruin to me, ruin, Mr. Shearer," 
said the old patrician, "and I went in on your advice, 
you know. It seems even now an unexplained crash, 
the bottom falling out of the whole thing at once." 
His eyes were feebly hostile. And then and there, 
Mr. Robert Shearer deemed it his duty to squelch these 
smouldering sparks of discontent. "You must stand 
up and take your medicine like a man," he roughly 
said. "In stocks, every man looks out for himself." 
The burly cashier did not deem it necessary to inform 
his dupe that he had unloaded his whole holding of the 
worthless stock, gained "in the organization" "for ser- 
vices," upon his professedly "best friend," and, for a 
secret purpose. 

Philip Ware then turned and faced his secret foe. 
The gallant spirit of his ancestors shone out in the 
clear, unflinching gaze with which he met this brutal 
sally. Dazed as he was, he had noted the absence of 
the faintest expression of regret. "You have no 
right to speak that way, Shearer," he simply said. "You 



CHECKED THROUGH. 43 

led me into this thing, and you have ruined me. You 
might at least have warned me/' 

The banker faced the ruined man in a dull, hostile 
surprise. "Now, if you had only made my interests 
your own, if you had been sensible in that affair of 
your daughter ^' 

"Stop! Stop! Sir! Not another word!" cried the 
pale-faced scholar, his eyes aflame. He pointed to the 
door with a trembling finger, but it was the rage of his 
awakened fatherly tenderness, not the infirmity of 
years, which made that quivering finger a sign of mo- 
ment to the baffled dullard. 

As Robert Shearer lumbered down the stairs he 
swore a great oath. "By God, Pll sell the old Hall 
over his head and then marry this minx there, after I 
have bought it in. These notes are all past due and 
I'll force them on the jump from to-day. And then 
I will just train Mrs. Shearer up a bit, to my own satis- 
faction. Ill keep him out of the grounds. That's 
what I'll do." With the departure of his enemy, Philip 
Ware sank back into a chair. His spiritual insight 
was quickened at last. The scales had fallen from his 
eyes. The gross desire to dominate that pure young 
life, to besmear the altar of the young girl's innocent 
heart shone out all too plainly in the eyes of the eager 
creditor. For Robert Shearer was of that class of 
men whose measured, lingering, gloating glances de- 
file helpless woman at a distance more brutally than 
even the outstretched hand of passion. Philip Ware 
groaned as he thought of the wild day dream which he 
had conjured up two years before when the vivacious 
Miss Atwater departed on her European dress parade 
tour. The tell-tale eagerness of his dear child's eyes 
when, with a pallid face, she proudly declined a visit to 
the Old World as the guest of the little feminine 
Croesus, had led him on to speculate in hopes of see- 
ing her, too, shine afar, yet tenderly near. "Ah, 
Maddy, darling! It was for you I planned and 
dreamed those foolish dreams, and fell into this brute's 
trap." Ware was walking now in the glaring suu- 



44 CHECKED THROUGH. 

light of awakened reason. For Hiram Bashford's di- 
rect road, "across lots/' had pierced the lines of 
Shearer's artful intrenchments. Behind the profes- 
sions of olden friendship the real man lay unveiled be- 
fore him. False, sensual, crafty, mean, base and sly. 
"He shall not have her. He may take the Hall, but, 
by heaven, I will go out into the world with my dar- 
ling. Together we will work for brighter coming 
days. I have sat idle in the shadows here when I 
should have been fighting in the open like Bashford. 
I will go to him now. I will tell him all." For in 
his heart, humble and repentant, he feared not now to 
unburden himself to the friei|d of his youth. "It may 
make it lighter for Maddy. God bless my own dar- 
ling," he murmured, as he hastened his brief prepara- 
tions for fleeting. "Shall I tell her now?" he pon- 
dered as he glanced at the time tables. "No. I will 
send her words of cheer from New York after I have 
seen Hiram." And, with a stately dignity, he de- 
parted for the little village station. As the hats were 
lifted, right and left, that morning the simple Middle- 
town folk who knew and loved him said: "The Squire 
takes it very hard." 

And one poor old crone to whom he gave an ac- 
customed dole, pausing in his sorrows to be mindful 
of others, shuddered and drew her tattered rags 
around her as she croaked, "There's death in his face. 
There's death in his face." 

Mr. Robert Shearer lurked along, wolf-like, on the 
trail and with lowering brow, muttered: "I'll take a 
later train, and make a legal demand on the notes to- 
morrow. Presentment and non-payment will give me 
the chance to bring him at once to his knees. And 
the bride to be may learn to see things then in a dif- 
ferent light." In which sly arrangement of triumphant 
torture of the despoiled victim, Mr. Robert Shearer, for 
all his clerkly craft, was doomed to be forever disap- 
pointed. 

"Gone to New York, has he?" threateningly rumi- 
nated the octopus usurer that night. "I'll nail him the 



CHECKED THROUGH. 45 

very moment he comes back from York and serve the 
papers. He will not get away from me." Brute, stock 
jobber and crafty swindler as he was, Shearer^s self- 
complacency was shaken as he drove up to the sta- 
tion that night to take the Wilmington train. "Sorry, 
sir,'^ said the station agent, "no train to-night. Road 
blocked with a serious accident. We're just sending 
the wreckers up. And your friend, Judge Ware, 
is among the killed." The man's voice died away in a 
husky whisper as Shearer tottered away with a pale 
face, avoiding the crush of the rapidly gathering 
crowd. 

On his way to battle agauist fate for the dear one he 
had impoverished, Philip Ware had been called away to 
a world where no creditor serves papers, and he had 
got away from Robert Shearer forever. Far, far away, 
beyond the "proud man's contumely" and dying with 
the half framed name of his darling on his lips, the sim- 
ple scholar ended his blameless life with no blackened 
shadow of crime or wrong dimming the honored name 
he bore. The stroke of the high gods found him 
ready in the guileless serenity of his honest heart. And 
Madeleine Ware, happy in heart, far away, was an 
orphaned and penniless girl — alone in the world. 

There was some impish persistency in the street arab 
who pursued Counselor Bashford as he wormed his way 
out of busy William Street that evening, joining the 
refluent tide of New York's workers, great and small, 
pouring uptown. The jumbled words, "Terrible rail- 
road acciden' Delaware, forty kilPd 'n' wound'd," smote 
upon his ear. "Good God!" cried Bashford as he 
glanced over the flaring black head lines. Some fatal 
fascination had impelled him to turn and grasp a jour- 
nal from the sheaf, tossing the boy a dime. The great 
lawyer staggered into a drug store near by and seated 
himself there. He was deaf to the inquiries of the 
alarmed apothecary, for he knew not that his face 
showed all the agony of a sudden sorrow. There the 
cruel lines were spread out before him in paragraphic 
flourishes of conventional elegance. There were sud- 



46 CHECKED THROUGH. 

den tears in eyes which had long been unused to weep- 
ing, veiling the words, as the burly legal giant scanned 
the column given up to the disaster. It was a call to 
action which roused him like a bugle blast. 

"Ah! I must go to Madeleine at once!" he cried, as 
he threw the fateful journal away. For he had already 
read the special paragraph devoted to his dead friend. 
Every word seemed burned into his brain. He could 
close his eyes and see the fatal lines in all their ghastly 
curtness. 

"Among the victims of this appalling disaster, was 
Judge Philip Ware, of Newcastle, the scion of an old 
Delaware family and favorably known to bench and 
bar. The deceased gentleman's stately home was the 
rallying point of the local gentry. Judge Ware, who 
leaves an only daughter, was returning from Middle- 
town, where he had been called by the failure of the 
Middletown Kaolin Company, in which he was a large 
stockholder. The many prominent citizens who at- 
tended the creditors' meeting at Middletown were saved 
from the fate of their lamented friend by waiting for the 
Wilmington accommodation. The deceased gentleman 
was on his way to New York upon the 'special flyer,' 
which collided with a wild freight train. It is rumored 
that the dead jurist's fortune was entirely swept away in 
the failure of the great manufacturing company, in 
which disastrous speculation he had imprudently em- 
barked," etc. In a few moments the lawyer sprang 
to his feet. His friend had perished coming to see him. 
He seemed now to hear a beloved voice calling to him, 
"Go to Madeleine ! Go to her at once !" 

"Brayton," he cried to the anxious druggist, "here, 
ring me up a messenger boy and a coupe. Give me 
some telegraph blanks and a sheet of note paper." Be- 
hind the desk his flying fingers were soon tracing lines 
with lightning rapidity. "There, send these two tele- 
grams. Give me an umbrella and your overcoat. Send 
my man right on to Williamsport after me. Give him 
this note. To the Herdic House. Ah, yes. Give me a 



CHECKED THROUaH. i1 

lundred dollars. IVe got to catch the Pennsylvania 
rain." 

He sprang into the coupe, leaving the astounded 
)usiness man behind him gaping in mute surprise. But 
lis managing clerk, Withers, knew a half hour later 
:hat a week's postponement "for sickness of counsel,'^ 
^ould keep the "Pacific Mail's" destiny hanging in sus- 
Dense till Bashford's return. And on the fateful wires, 
leaping along with the speed of thought to Castle At- 
ivater, were these words of cheer: 

"I am coming to you. Await me. Trust to me for 
all." The stem signature, "Hiram Bashford," spoke 
of a man who had suddenly thrown aside the prejudices 
of an egoistic life. "Poor Madeleine. My poor child," 
the excited man murmured, as he was whirled along 
the narrow street, followed by the general curses of the 
jostled wayfarers. "You shall study law, you shall do 
anything you wish to, if you can find in aught, the 
means to drown this sudden sorrow." 

Practical, even in his exaltation of sudden sympathy, 
Bashford's quick mind leaped over all the gaps in the 
past. The whole game lay clearly outlined before him. 
"The low brute,*' growled Bashford. "He juggled the 
remnants of poor Philip's fortune away from him. I 
suppose that even the Hall will have to go. And he 
will now try to hound the girl down in the 'honorable' 
brutality of a forced marriage." 

Suddenly a light spread over the stem man's face. 
"I am a fool," he very unjustly decided. "Of course, he 
can only collect the money, his claim and costs. I'll 
buy the Hall myself and give it to Madeleine. She can 
set up a law college of one there and so graduate her- 
self." He fiercely smoked a cigar as he impatiently 
glared at the lights of Hoboken nearing him. Counselor 
Bashford had weakened. He had cast aside the cher- 
ished code of many long years, at the glance of that 
Greek-browed girl's steadfast eyes, and he was pledged 
now to aid and abet her exceedingly rash resolve. It 
was a weakness of which he was dimly conscious — an 
intellectual "change of base" — "for no sufficient cause" 



48 CHECKED THROUGH. 

save the infinite love and tenderness which had entered 
into his lonely heart unawares. And so he sped on to the 
rescue, conscious of his weakness, and all unconscious 
that in that weakness was exceeding strength! For 
the great flood tides of unselfish love swelling up in 
the human heart do not register themselves. They 
simply burst the bounds of self-interest and are not 
gauged by the petty inch tapes of every-day life. 

At Hoboken, the advocate bethought him to send 
on a telegram, marked "strictly private," to Miss Flor- 
ence Atwater, Castle Atwater, Williamsport. "It may 
yet cut off the tidings until I can be there to help her 
to bear it!" mused the great-hearted man. 

It was two o'clock in the silent watches of a crystalline 
night when Bashford stepped out upon the platform at 
Williamsport. All these long hours, men who knew 
him feared to break in upon the stem, gloomy reserve 
of his self commune in the smokers' compartment. His 
eyes were set in a firm resolve, and no man knew that 
they were fixed upon the distant figure of his elected 
enemy, that singularly energetic financier, Mr. Rob- 
ert Shearer! There was a fitness in this midnight duel 
of minds across two states — for Cashier Robert Shear- 
er was now bendine under the green shades in the Wil- 
mington National Bank, in cautious conclave with 
counsel. Even at that late hour he was "preparing^' to 
take the usual steps in such cases "to protect the in- 
terests of the bank." He had not neglected his own in- 
terests while toiling "for the bank," as was evidenced 
by the singular apparition which greeted Hiram Bash- 
ford on the platform at Williamsport. "I have my own 
carriage waiting! But — I must first speak to you alone 
here — even before we drive home! I have something 
to show you!" It was little Miss Millions, no longer a 
dazzling fairy, but a sad-eyed spirit of the night, whose 
splendid dark eyes were fringed with tear-gemmed lash- 
es. "Poor Madeleine! Poor darling!" she breathed 
in a voice as tender as the forest requiems over the 
"Last Rose !" "Did you get my telegram. Judge Bash- 
ford?" "Miss Florence! My sweet child! You 



CHECKED THROUGH. 49 

here, at this time of night?" gasped the astonished man. 
"I knew that you would come on at once if you heard 
the news," she simply said. And the little hand trem- 
bled as Bashford raised it and kissed it there under the 
twinkling stars. He could have folded that sweet, de- 
voted champion to his heart, for she stood there, trans- 
figured by love into a guardian angel. "I have not 
told her yet! I stole away at once, for this telegram 
came from that man Shearer! I had myself received 
one from the conductor, who fortunately escaped. He 
knew that Madeleine was with me, for — ^for," and there 
was a broken sob, "dear Uncle Philip was going to see 
you, and then coming on to take Maddy home. He 
had asked the conductor about the trains." They en- 
tered the waiting rooms, and there, by the flickering 
kerosene, Bashford read the words of the author of 
the ruin which had wrecked the house of Ware. A 
fierce oath escaped him as he scanned them. 

"Have taken charge of all in your absence. Rely on 
me alone in this emergency. Must see you at once 
about your own business matters. Come on at once. 
Will meet you at the train. Answer." 

When the lawyer had read the signature, "Robert 
Shearer,*' he became suddenly aware of his escaped 
wrath. "Never mind ! I don't blame you !" cried Miss 
Florence, with flashing eyes. "But for him, poor 
Maddy would not be an orphan to-night! Oh! You 
must watch over her!" cried the little millionairess. 
"Let my house be her home; but you must watch over 
her alone!" And, strange to say, the brave little 
woman looked up into Hiram Bashford's strong, reso- 
lute face from the shelter of his clasping arms — for he 
had clasped the loyal girl to his breast. 

"There, now! It's all right! Just let me send a 
telegram," he cried, with mock cheerfulness, as he de- 
posited the agitated little beauty in a cosy seat. "I will 
only be away a minute." He stole a glance at her 
transfigured face, all tears and loving kindness, as he 
scrawled a sufficiently direct telegram. "Sprite and 
angel, dear, brave little one!" were the words he m\it- 



60 CHECKBD THROUGH. 

mured, looking at the exhausted girl, whose eyes had 
relaxed in a half slumber; but he wrote hurriedly— as 
follows: 

"Robert Shearer, 

"Wilmington National Bank : 
"Take no steps as regards Miss Ware's interests. 
Am coming with her. Hold everything for my arrival. 

"Hiram Bashford, Attorney.^ 

In the half hour's drive to the magnificent domain 
where sorrow's wing was shading the splendors of the 
luxuriant home, Hiram Bashford, the strong man lean- 
ing upon a reed, softly said: "Florence! Miss Flor- 
ence! I cannot tell her this news! Are you brave 
enough for a task which turns a strong man back?'' 
The girl's face was pale as her eyes gave him the prom- 
ise, and it was on her faithful breast that Madeleine's 
head lay in the first sad hour of her conscious orphan- 
hood. And then, the beautiful day came on, flushing 
the Pennsylvanian hills with a glory of God's bright- 
ness, veiled forever to the dear dim eyes afar, now look- 
ing out beyond these mortal bars. 

Hiram Bashford, after a brisk morning walk, in 
which the varied beauties of the mountain Paradise 
were first made known to him, awaited Miss Atwater 
at seven o'clock in the library, where once her father 
directed his own eddy of the huge Pennsylvania money 
maelstrom. A touching dignity of sorrow gave a 
queenly grace to the little lady who entered, simply say- 
ing : "I am ready now. Judge. I have telegraphed for 
my brothers. They are dear men, and helpful — ^al- 
though they have not found out yet that I am a woman, 
and have a head and heart of my own! Had I not bet- 
ter bring Madeleine on, under Hugh's escort? He will 
do anything I ask him to," she smiled sadly, "and he 
is the head of our family. If you go on the early train 
you can checkmate this coarse intruder, Shearer," and 
the flashing dark eyes were tear-veiled, as she sobbed, 
"Madeleine can see her dear old father at home, for the 



CHECKED THROUGH. 61 

last time ! Not under the keeping of careless strangers I 
I know that you will do this for me! And, so, Made- 
leine will be better able to meet you — ^there, where we 
were all so happy — ^but the other day!" 

The stem man of the rougher world gazed in open 
admiration at the bright, resolute little heiress. "The 
carriage is already ordered. I send one of my men 
down with you, and Madeleine says 'Grod bless you!' 
That you are to do all in her name!" 

And even in the fulness of the national fame, which 
had been to him sweeter than woman's love — ^the lonely 
man sighed as he followed the young chatelaine into the 
breakfast room. "If I were twenty-five years young- 
er,'' he murmured, "I would give some of these Penn- 
sylvania men a race for that little angel's hand! Head 
and heart ! She has both ! God bless her !" He drove 
away to the station a half hour later, speaking earnest 
words of cheer to the woman by his side. Neither of 
them saw the pale face at the window which silently 
watched their departure in the royal solitude of the 
chamber of sorrow. But Madeleine Ware's heart 
went out with them! Too well the girl knew that she 
was alone in the world now! A stranger within the 
gates! But, for the dear dead one, and these loyal 
friends, she vowed to be all that they would have fondly 
dreamed. 

"I am in your hands," softly said Florence, as the 
lawyer made his adieux. "Command me and my broth- 
ers! I want Madeleine to feel that she is not friendless 
— ^if she is fatherless!" 

"My dear child," gravely answered Bashford, "we 
will all find away to stand near to her, between her and 
the chill blasts of the future. But, first, let me find out' 
the general facts, and then we can knit up our little cir- 
cle of protectors. There is even such a thing as friend- 
ly intrusion! Poor Madeleine! My old friend's or- 
phaned girl! Her head and heart need all the rest we 
can give them now. Let the billows roll over now, 
and we will then move up to her aid ! You are the only 
one fitted to be near her in these first sad days. Fot J' 



52 CHECKED THROUGH. 

he sighed, "the moaning of the sea of change will break 
in upon her soon enough! I fear that all is swept away! 
There may even have to be another home provided!'' 

"Not so!" smiled the Pennsylvanian girl. "Maddy 
has two homes always ! One in my heart — ^the other is 
the one you have just left! While I live, there is all 
waiting for her there which my dear father's generous 
provision has showered upon me!" 

They parted in silence, and as Bashford watched her 
swift wheels flashing back homewards, they seemed to 
him to be brightly shining as angel wings. "And — ^we 
criticise our women!" mused the traveler, as the train 
sped away. "I have at last learned that the first touch 
of trouble can transform a butterfly into a ministering 
angel." His lonely life had hidden from him the potent 
fact that in the heart of every woman worthy of that 
holy name lurks the imprisoned seraphs of love and un- 
selfish devotion! 

It was three days later when, from far and near, the 
country side gathered in the great halls of the old 
mansion where Philip Ware lay in the majesty of Death. 
All had known and honored the gentle scholar, and 
scores of them had loved him passing well. A simple, 
modest country gentleman in whom there was no guile! 
When the white-robed clergyman lifted up his voice, 
a sigh of tender sympathy broke the chastened silence 
of the vast rooms. From the opened doors, the faith- 
ful colored servants watched the last sad rites in awe. 
Even in the impressive solemnity of the last hour, as 
Hiram Bashford led a stately figure robed in deepest 
black to the head of the bier, followed by Hugh At- 
water and the bright-eyed comforter, the local mag- 
* nates present were aware of the conspicuous absence of 
Mr. Robert Shearer! It was true that delegations from 
the bench and bar — ^that all the organized societies of 
the vicinity — ^testified the grief of the proud old state 
for its beloved son. 

Probably Mr. Robert Shearer, closeted in his own 
fortress-like home, did not carq to confide to anyone 
the details of his preliminary interview with that most 



CHECKED THROUGH. 53 

energetic representative, Hiram Bashford, of New 
York. Shearer ha^ been unnerved by the cool de- 
cision with which Bashford swept him out of any pos- 
sible connection with the obsequies, or the future af- 
fairs of the orphan. 

"It will be quite unnecessary for us to meet, Mr. 
Shearer,'' sternly said Hiram. "I have retained 
Messrs. Jarvis and Thorn to represent me here, locally, 
and any business you may have with Miss Ware may 
be addressed to them or to myself. You will see the 
propriety of leaving her undisturbed in her private sor- 
row, and in this crushing financial calamity, brought 
about by you alone !'' 

"I shall have some immediate business with the es- 
tate," sullenly ejaculated Shearer. "Then, transact it 
with Jarvis! He tells me that he knows you very well! 
He will be appointed by the Orphan's Court. There 
was no will left." Had Shearer been a brighter man 
he would not have ventured on his last sally: "It may 
make a difference to Miss Madeleine about the Hall! 
If I only could see her, I might arrange some plan! 
Her father was about to turn it over to me as security 
for his unpaid notes which I now hold!" 

"I thought the bank held them?" Bashford sternly 
said, "with an ugly gleam in his eye. "I had to take 
them up!" insolently replied Shearer, "to save my own 
financial position with the bank. They were all dis- 
counted, at my personal request, by the directors! We 
had an instant meeting about them. You see my po- 
sition! The amount is a large one— over one hundred 
thousand dollars." 

Hiram Bashford turned on him like a wounded lion 
at bay. "I know they were made, at your request, 
and on your instigation and plausible representations. 
I would advise you to let your own lawyer handle them 
with Jarvis! Look here — Mr. Robert Shearer!" said 
Hiram. "You affect to misunderstand me! If you 
approach that plundered girl, or cross the limits of the 
Hall grounds — if you dare to show that cringing face 
of yours at my friend's funeral — I will — bte^k— "^Civa 



54 CHECKED THROUGH. 

— neck! You shall not look again on the face of the 
man you robbed till you meet it at the Judgment Bar, 
you damned scoundrel!" And when Mr. Robert 
Shearer lifted his eyes he was sitting alone. He found 
it convenient to **enjoy'' a sudden fit of illness on the 
day when Philip Ware was laid at rest in the old family 
tomb by the side of the loved and lost. While the 
yawning granite was gaping to receive the poor shell 
from which the spirit had fled, the cashier walked the 
floor of his self-imposed prison chamber. "I will buy 
the Hall over her head — and turn her out into the 
street! And, FU put the whole line of the dead Wares 
out into the Potter's Field!" Such was the gentle 
frame of mind of the man who felt that his gentle prey 
had escaped him. And he knew, too, that he was wise 
in his generation — for all men said so! All men bowed 
the knee to the great cashier of the Wilmington Bank! 
Truly g^eat — in a small way! 

On the evening when Madeleine Ware felt herself 
for the first time really alone in the world, Hiram Bash- 
ford and Hugh Atwater sat long in conference in the 
lonely library where all spoke so vividly of the dead 
scholar. 

For the room seemed filled with whispers 
Ae they looked at the vacant seat! 

Morally brave as man may be, Bashford felt hum- 
bled when he realized that it was to Florence Atwater, 
who had gained a new dignity by her fortitude, that 
they had allotted the sad task of acquainting Made- 
leine with her financial ruin. After the dinner, presid- 
ed over by Mrs. Bradford, the old housekeeper, cased 
in gloomy armor of shining satin, they had called the 
Little Lady down from the "fair upper chamber,'* where 
Madeleine lay prone upon the bed whose pillow a fond 
father had kissed in his last unconscious farewell ! They 
had found Madeleine's blue ribbon in his pocketbook. 
It had been dear to him, for it was the very last thing 
she had touched before her departure for the carefully 



CHOCKED THROUGH. 55 

contrived pleasure jaunt. And Bashford had quickly 
caught this sign of the delicate tenderness of the man 
who had clung to that amulet of love on the day of his 
final defeat and disaster. The ribbon was resting over 
the great heart of the burly lawyer now ! The two men 
had faced the problem of the disclosure of bankruptcy. 
Hugh Atwater, great, bronzed, bearded giant of thirty 
— a strong son of Anak — ^brushed his moistened eyes 
with the hand which daily signed checks for fortunes. 
"I cannot help to break that poor, helpless girPs heart! 
I'll stand in on anything, Judge Bashford ! Leave this 
thing to Florry! She is a wonderful little woman! 
You and I can do something else. Now, I know this 
poor girPs proud heart will break if she is thrust out of 
this old home! The web of her life is woven around 
every nook and comer of the Hall! Can't we save it 
for her?" "Let me engineer this awkward business, 
Atwater!" answered Bashford, with a peculiar smile. 
"If your sister will induce Madeleine to go home with 
her, I will have Mrs. Bradford at once send on there 
all the surroundings most dear to her. I have already 
ordered Jarvis to save all the personal property, and he 
will put a good man in here at once to catalogue and 
arrange it. The first thing is to occupy Madeleine's 
mind, and in this, this legal dream of hers may aid 
us." The generous Pennsylvanian had admiringly dis- 
patched his sister on her mission. "Florry! If you 
can take her home within a week, and keep her, too, 
from breaking her heart, you shall have the best dia- 
mond necklace in Tiffany's when you have made up 
your mind about Jimmy Renwick!" The little Prin- 
cess fled away with suddenly crimsoning cheeks, as 
she met the astonished glances of Hiram Bashford's 
eyes. "Oh! It's all made up!" said Atwater, interpret- 
ing the Judge's mute query. "Boy and girl love, and — 
they were made for each other. Florry appears to ig- 
nore the impending crisis ! Renwick is the finest fel- 
low in Pennsylvania and will soon foreclose and get a 
'controlling interest!' Now, promise me, that you will 
let me 'chip in' in whatever you do, Mr. Bashford,^' said 



t »%,■<«' 



56 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Atwater. "I have a dozen company meetings await- 
ing me. I will not oppress Maddy Ware with any 
sense of personal obligation, but I do claim an even 
half of your blind pool ! I can see already that you are 
bound to save this home!'' "[Trust me, Atwater! Fll 
call on you soon enough!" said the New Yorker, "and 
Fll go up to town with you myself to-morrow. I wish 
Miss Florence to take Madeleine at once away. I 
have posted Jarvis, and I wish this brute, Shearer, to 
think that we are going to let things take their course. 
It disarms him!" The men joined hands in a clasp of 
new-made brotherhood — the royal Brotherhood of 
Man! Happy-hearted, and with life stretching out 
fair before him, young Atwater easily chilled under the 
ceremonious decorum of the house from which the dead 
scholar had been borne away. Already unseen spec- 
tres seemed to be pointing "The way out!" and the 
frightened servants, too, felt the loosening of the olden 
ties! In little knots they now moved around, half- 
hearted, for "coming events" cast their grim shadows 
before! Bashford, too, could not abandon the great 

?rofessional interests in his charge. There was the 
^acific Mail on a lee shore! 

"As to her residence, and her healthful occupation — 
I have a plan,'' soberly remarked the New Yorker. 
"Work alone will lift her out of the gloom of the com- 
ing days! Only work! For, even the tenderest sym- 
pathy points ever to the unhealed wound! We cannot 
help it! Thank God for work! It saved me from go- 
ing mad, when — when — ^" He did not finish — ^but 
hearty Hugh Atwater was not wrong in divining the 
reason of Bashford's feverish devotion to the drudgery 
of law. It had turned his eyes far away from the spot 
where a white stone bore, in far Greenwood, the fatal 
date when Love had stood with inverted torch — a mute 
warder — over the lost Lenore of the strong man's gold- 
en youth. Bashford went on speaking as if in a dream. 
"I have only talked an hour with Madeleine! I can 
bear my own crosses, and carry the heavy burden of life 
to the end of my days. But — I cannot witness the suf- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 57 

fering of this noble girl without being unmanned! Her 
wild project of the practice of law may be the best re- 
source of us all, and lead her up to peace, perhaps, fin- 
ally to happiness !" The two men's eyes met in silence. 

"God grant it," solemnly answered Atwater, with 
kindling eyes. "She is gifted?" "Marvelously so!" 
gravely replied Bashford. "Now, I hate all dissembling, 
and I would not — I dare not — palter with this aspiring 
woman's best hopes. I have talked it all over, secretly, 
with your sister. Madeleine can be kept in your im- 
mediate vicinity. Watch over her! Let Miss Flor- 
ence minister to her heart! I will, from afar, watch 
over the matters of the head. She can easily take a 
systematic course of law lectures and private study at 
Lehigh University. I have given Miss Florence an 
'open sesame' letter to the president there — a man of 
our old class. He will guard Philip Ware's daughter 
as the very apple of his eye ! I'll write to him privately. 
But I do not wish her to feel that we are pushing her 
along!*' 

"And then, after she is prepared?" demanded the 
clear-eyed young finance baron. "Ah! There is the 
rub!" said Bashford, with a troubled brow. "The state 
of New York does not yet welcome women to the pro- 
fession, but I have promised her to give her a couple of 
years in the inner circles of our own great business. 
She will not feel there that she is *a stranger within the 
gates !' I'll guard her with my very life ! Perhaps she 
may have a fair field in some of the newer Western 
communities. There is a larger view of life out there 
than in the old Thirteen!" musingly said Bashford. 
"Now, the South has always fenced in its fine women 
with Quixotic chivalry. In the North and East, men 
trample them down, and perhaps the sun of wisdom 
may be even broader in the sunset region! This new 
life will content her, while you and I stand by and guard 
the wreck! I'm going to give this fellow Shearer a 
devil of a fight, Atwater! I shall go after him — per- 
sonally — ^when the estate is all settled up, and try and 
recover the amount of the notes on the gcouud <^i 



58 CHECKED THROUGH. 

'fraudulent representation!' But, first, the place must 
be sold, and we must bid it inP 

"Sold — ^sold at auction! Why, this place has been 
two hundred years in the family!" cried Atwater, spring- 
ing up. "Ah! My young friend!" sadly said Bash- 
ford. "The average American family has hardly a 
prosperous life for a single generation! We are all 
centripetal ! The chase for the dollar — ^the manufactur- 
ing code, has made us all egoists, and 'tout passe, tout 
lasse, tout casse' is but too true a proverb now!" 

"I don't like the idea of Madeleine living alone in 
New York!" anxiously said Hugh Atwater. He had 
been a bit of a man of the world in his fiery "wander- 
jahre." "It can't be helped," sighed Bashford. "She 
is one who will go on to the end, *ohne hast, ohne 
rast!' Women, after all, are only of two classes, the 
hunters and the hunted! There is no semblance of 
safety for an attractive woman but in marriage. Poor 
as this defense is, it's the only system of fortification 
for the sex. And, with an infinite tenderness, behind 
the flimsy walls of our strange social system, woman — 
with beating heart — awaits her dearest foe!" 

"And, so, you think the only profession really open to 
women is the matrimonial jugglery? The competitive 
beauty show! The almost indelicate parade of mutely 
offered charms!" said the Pennsylvanian. "I do not 
approve the laws of social life! I only state them. I 
fear that it is too true!" rejoined the lawyer. "And — 
the devil of it is — ^that only the wary, only the soiled 
sisters, seem to play the game of marriage with eyes 
open to their practical interests! To the poor profit o) 
the best sale, and a part payment in advance ! The best 
of women are too often either hoodwinked of roughly 
hurled into the arms of their secret purchasers P* "You 
take a gloomy view. Counselor," was Atwater's reply, 
The lawyer faced him with a direct question: "How 
many friends — parents — guardians — ^will reject a *good 
match' where money or position is the price of the 
trapping of the maiden, who goes, with her lips sealed 
hy convention, to the marriage mart? Do they not, 



CHECKED THROUGH. 59 

firmly but gently, push the girl out to a crowned self- 
sacrifice ?'' 

"I am afraid it is too often the case," sadly answered 
Atwater, "but, no hard bought wisdom or experience 
seems to be handed down by the many failing cases. 
I have observed one curious fact, that women *with a 
history' — cool adventuresses and sly feminine frauds — 
often utilize the lessons of their own dark past, and 
make what the world calls 'good wives!' *' 

"Precisely!" said Bashford, rising. "They play the 
game with unerring skill! Do not forget that every 
woman must battle for herself in defense of these cov- 
eted charms, the fatal heritage of Eve! I will stand by 
Madeleine Ware to the end, for her father's sake, and 
for her own sake !" 

"So will I," resolutely added Atwater. And there 
was a mournful ring in Bashford's voice as he said: 
"Her marriage may make havoc of all these bright 
dreams of her aspiring heart ! Marriage is ever an un- 
known quantity X in the equation of womanhood, and 
it intervenes to make, to break or to mar at last. What 
can you or I do, my friend? It would be just the same 
if Madeleine sat with folded hands in silken parlors! 
Love plays strange tricks! Passion tints the frozen 
lily -with the blood-red tinges of the heart! Women, 
left alone, behind their marble walls or flimsy brown 
stone fronts, are not even there proof against the storms 
of the loosened emotions which tear the guilty bosom of 
the wanderer on the street. There is no safety but the 
final unbroken silence of Death — for we are not proof 
against our own selves! It is the friend within, who 
admits the foe without! Lord Ullin's daughter lives 
again in the love-lorn girl, who always throws herself 
blindly into the arms of the lover! It is the old game 
of Life, with real hearts to break, and the woman-chase 
of to-day shames the painted unrealities of the vivid 
stage ; and yet, this game must be played out to the bit- 
ter end!" 

Neither of the men who sought the haunting stillness 
of the hushed rooms above dared to dream of what 



60 CHECKED THROUGH. 

would be sweet Madeleine Ware's future when love gave 
a newer light to the eyes which softly shone in these 
waiting days, but both murmured "Grod bless and keep 
her!*' as they sought rest for the coming battle of the 
morrow, with those harshly returning cares, which 
break in upon even the profoundest sorrows ! 

Both the men were far away, though united in heart, 
when, a week later, Florence Atwater tenderly led the 
shrouded form of the last of the Wares over the door 
now closing upon her happy past! There had been 
long hours of tender commune. There had been ten- 
der visits of adieu to each well-remembered spot! Made- 
leine had strayed through every silent room, and had 
lived over "in fond affection and recollection'' the days 
when she had clung, a timid child, to the hand of her 
vanished father, as she fearfully eyed the gleaming 
busts of the stem Romans and the intellectual giants 
of olden days, gazing with unblinking eyes down from 
their "coigns of vantage" in the library. A question 
from her sorrow-shaded eyes was soon answered, as 
Florence threw her arms around her friend! She had 
noted the absence of the portraits of her loved father, 
and the dreamy shadow mother who had leaned so often 
down from heaven to kiss her sleeping child. "You 
will find them in your new home, Maddy, and they will 
welcome you on your coming!'' No one dared to 
hasten the desolate girl in these last days of a lingering 
"Good-bye." It was only when she lingered alone by 
her parents' graves that she felt there, on that holy 
ground, the coming of the strength to go away! All 
her fond words were unanswered, as she knelt in prayer 
for the last time — 

For the silence was unbroken'. 
And the only word there spoken 

was the gentle summons of Florence Atwater, stand- 
ing open-armed and whispering "Come!" And, so, 
watched over by an unseen love and tenderness shared 
by her two devoted champions, led by the hand of the 



CHECKED THROUGH. 61 

little Princess — Madeleine Ware, girt in the royal robes 
of innocence, with her brave heart buoyed up by an 
unfaltering trust, sought peace and shelter in the far 
Pennsylvanian hills. There the star-eyed Minerva 
beckoned her onward and upward, "to the heights" — 
where knowledge lay still far above her, and her feet 
were soon resolutely set to climbing the long and st^p 
mountain ascent. And the days and the months glid- 
ed by as shadows follow the swift-gliding shallops on 
the stream. 

The snows were drifted deeply around the leafless 
trees of the Hall gardens, and great clumps of bayonet 
icicles clung to pillared porch and quaint dormer, when 
a hundred or more curious listeners heard the florid 
description of the auctioneer who described the "very 
desirable property about to pass out of an old line," at 
the fatal fall of the hammer in his hand! Careless 
knots of strangers now roved over the vast interior, in- 
spected the colonial glories of the main hall, and thread- 
ed the great supporting wings! There were resound- 
ing echoes in the empty rooms in harsh protest at the 
stranger foot, for the very last vestiges of the adorn- 
ments of the mansion had been removed. Even the 
great bams and carriage houses were now empty. The 
sable servitors, too, had disappeared, and only the sad- 
eyed housekeeper, Mrs. Bradford, awaited the orders 
to "turn over the keys!" There was a brooding si- 
lence everywhere! The quaint old windows were 
closed and barred, save the few needed to admit the 
"necessary light" for the closing tableau of the dark 
deed of cowardly robbery, now a thrice-told tale! In 
front of the Hall a motley collection of country vehicles 
was huddled under the snow-laden trees. Buzzing 
comment was loud among the curious. For the huge 
granite substructure, the fortressed basements of the 
offices, the gaunt halls, rich in old carved wainscot, the 
untenanted guest chambers and wondrous carved oak- 
en staircase, were a revelation of the solemn grandeur 
of the old days ! For weeks the local journals had been 
active in reminiscent story of the faded glories of Ware 



62 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Hall. And so there was a sigh of relief when the auc- 
tioneer, reading his formal order of court, glanced at 
his golden watch, and then waited for the hour of high 
noon. "I would like to see the interior of the rooms 
which are locked above," suddenly said a harsh voice, 
as Mr. Robert Shearer elbowed his way into the front 
of the ring of expectant bidders. All eyes were quick- 
ly turned upon him, for all now knew the story of his 
connection with the downfall of the oldest country fam- 
ily. A score of men and women flashed approval from 
indignant eyes as the auctioneer quietly said: "They 
are the family apartments, sir, and are closed by the 
orders of Mr. Jarvis." "Is that so, sir?" demanded 
Shearer in a bullying tone. He had secretly hung 
upon the path of the absent and defenseless orphaned 
girl like the vulgar cormorant that he was. A pushing 
man of affairs was Mr. Robert Shearer, and he greatly 
enjoyed the brutal satisfaction of this day of the pub- 
lic humiliation of the Wares. 

"Yes, it is so!" calmly replied Mr. Jarvis, a silver- 
haired, quiet-faced man. "And, they will remain 
locked !" he decisively said. At the moment when the 
bidding was announced, the crowd parted right and 
left for a tall woman veiled in black was quietly led to 
the front by a gentleman who was only known to the 
dark-robed stranger and the vivacious looking Miss 
Florence Atwater, whose agitated face showed the 
deep crimson of a suppressed excitement. It so hap- 
pened that Mr. James Renwick, of Philadelphia, had 
been "pressed into service" by the little Princess! She 
was beginning to seriously debate the possibility of 
changing a worn-out "No" into a most delightfully in- 
spiring "Yes." For her band of brothers had manfully 
"held up the chin" of "Horatius" Renwick, who was 
still waiting at the bridge. "My God I Ifs really 
Madeleine herself!" murmured a tall man who lurked 
in a corner behind a draped curtain. He had stolen 
unobserved into the great apartment before the crowd 
had gathered, and a neatly shaven stranger of metro- 
politan elegance managed to lurk in front of the partly 



CHECKED THROUGH. 63 

opened curtain, so as to successfully exclude the public 
from that particular recess ! It was indeed true ! But, 
while a murmur of inquiry ran through the crowd the 
doubled crape veil of the lady was never lifted! The 
dancing grays outside had only just dashed up with 
the sleigh conveying the strangers. 

The ringing notes of the auctioneer echoed a mo- 
ment unanswered in the dismantled room, as the words 
"What am I bid, gentlemen? Will some one make an 
offer ?'^ fell on the silence of the crowd like a whip-lash, 
cutting forever the tie that bound so long! 

"Forty thousand dollars," was the stolid remark of 
Mr. Robert Shearer, at which bid the people eagerly 
craned their necks. The bank's claim was for a hun- 
dred and fifteen thousand, and only Hiram Bashford, 
in his retreat, growled, "The cur! He wishes to have 
a shortage to work on!'' Bashford now pinched the 
arm of the human shield before him, as a stranger who 
had edged near the Pennsylvania party quietly said: 
"Fifty." It had been inspired by a glance from the 
eyes of the bright little woman in velvet and sables 
which opened that silent stranger's lips. Bashford 
could not easily see the man who had spoken! "Now, 
watch that fellow, too !" he whispered, and then his own 
myrmidon, in a clear voice cried, "Sixty thousand dol- 
lars!" All eyes sought the corner from whence came 
that one bold bid, and Miss Florence Atwater, too, was 
slightly paler as she laid a hand on the arm of the man 
beside her. The auctioneer, with eager, hawk-like 
eyes, towered above them. "Do I hear any other 
bids?" he ominously said. "Seventy thousand" came 
out in a jerky voice from Miss Florence's secret agent, 
who ruefully muttered, "Heavens, what a pinch!" The 
lady of Castle Atwater was taking no chances on this 
first field day of her life! "It's so glorious to have 
money!" was her wild internal sigh of triumph, as the 
expectant auctioneer now turned his eye toward Shear- 
er, whose face was already crimsoned. He had caught 
a clear view of Miss Atwater's countenance, and his 
brow was black as he defiantly growled "Eighty thoM- 



64 CHECKED THROUGH. 

sand!" The hum of astonishment in many-keyed voices 
was heard, and only squelched by the vigorous rap- 
ping of the fateful hammer. "Order! Gentlemen! 
No unseemly confusion! You can all have a chance 
to bid!" was the warning cry. But the hum began to 
be a chorus as the comer sentinel's voice rang out, 
"Ninety thousand!" "Now, that's something like a 
bid!" proudly cried the happy auctioneer, mindful of 
his commission. People gazed blankly at each other 
as the property was held to be doomed to a sacrifice. 
Shearer was now nervously consulting some private 
memoranda. He pushed his way boldly up to the block 
— notebook in hand — 

All scattered backward as he came — 
For, all knew Bertram Risingliam. 

"Ninety thousand I am bid ! Do I hear another of- 
fer?'' A death-like silence followed, for all the listen- 
ers now knew there was a bitter duel on! The hidden 
foes were already mustering their last battalions! Bash- 
ford longed to leap out from his concealment and scat- 
ter the crowd of money changers from this temple of 
tenderest memories. He grasped the hand of his hu- 
man fortification, and then whispered in the man's ear. 
While Miss Florry Atwater was pressing a daintily 
gloved hand upon her own bounding heart, "Quick! 
Quick !" she whispered to her own agent, and then her 
hand stole back strangely into Mr. James Renwick's 
protecting palm! For Robert Shearer, with a proud 
sweep of his book, had called out in a loud voice — 
"One hundred and twenty thousand dollars!" The 
hammer fell twice before the astonished man watching 
Miss Atwater's eye could gasp, "Twenty-five!" Shear- 
er turned and then whispered a warning word to the 
auctioneer. "I warn you that ten per cent of the pur- 
chase price must be deposited forthwith, gentlemen!'' 
cried the excited hammer-wielder. There was no an- 
swer from the crowd, until the pale, shaven stranger 
left his comer and whispered a word to the stately 



CHECKED THROUGH. 65 

woman who stood there silent in her sweeping crape 
veil. "One hundred and forty thousand dollars!" 
calmly remarked the unknown man, whom all eyes 
had followed in his forward movement. There was a 
start of the excited crowd for the door, as Robert Shear- 
er thundered out of the room, with his hat jammed 
down over his eyes. The ivory hammer had fallen three 
times before Counselor Bashford thankfully ejaculated: 
"That settles the damned scoundrel forever!" 

He then strode out boldly from his concealment, as 
the auctioneer, with a fierce glance and in a ringing 
tone demanded, "Bidder's name? Step up now and 
make your deposit!" "John Smith," jovially answered 
the great advocate, as he elbowed his way to the front 
with a bulky green package in his hand. He paused 
as a faint cry reached him, and leaping forward, he 
sprang to the side of Miss Florence Atwater, who now 
was crying as if her heart would break. "I have lost 
it — lost it!" she feebly moaned, as she gazed at Bash- 
ford's triumphant face. 

"You dear little witch! Have I been bidding 
against you?" cried Bashford, dropping his package 
on the floor. For the tall Niobe in black swayed un- 
easily, and it was on Hiram's breast that her head 
came fluttering down in the deep swoon of a sudden de- 
liverancy from the agency of shame. "Send them all 
out!^^ cried Bashford, in a ringing voice. "This is my 
house, and" — his utterance was choked by a sudden 
sob— "your home, your own home again, Madeleine, 
if you will have it so!" Hiram Bashford never forgot 
the light beaming from Florence Atwater's eyes, as 
she stood gazing at James Renwick, who had deftly 
picked up Bashford's forgotten package of money. 
The happy lawyer cared not for its whereabouts, for 
the little Pennsylvanian, too, suddenly forgot her tears 
and succeeded in kissing the grave-faced lawyer, to the 
evident envy of the now enlightened Renwick and the 
astonishment of the few lingerers. 

"You dearest of men!" she cried. "Why did you not 
tell us you were going to beat all that dreadful txvaxv's 



66 CHECKED THROUGH. 

schemes? Oh! You were so noble! It was magnifi- 
cent — ^yeS; magnificent!" 

Mrs. Bradford had stolen up to the side of the girl 
whom she had nursed in infancy. Hiram Bashford 
was somewhat dazed by the sudden accolade which re- 
warded his financial daring. "I think," he said, "Mrs. 
Bradford can give us a little home dinner!" He turned 
to Florence Atwater, whose eyes were now fixed on 
him in a speechless tenderness. For she saw at 
last the watchful fidelity and delicate generosity of the 
man who would guard the orphan's name from even 
an insinuation. "Talce Madeleine up to her own room, 
Miss Florence!'' he simply said. "We are all at home 
here — once more — all but Philip!" he murmured, as he 
strode up and handed the delighted auctioneer twenty- 
eight crisp five hundred dollar notes. 

"Mr. Jarvis will attend to the deeds and papers!" 
gravely remarked "Mr. John Smith," "and I'll call to- 
morrow and give you my thanks if you'll put every one 
of these people off these premises at once." The joy- 
ous auctioneer flew away to execute the behest, for his 
deeds of "commission" on this happy day covered many 
deeds of "omission," and went up into several thou- 
sands. Before the little circle gathered in the domain 
of the happiness crazed Mrs. Bradford, for a pretense 
of a dinner — Hiram Bashford left the two women alone 
to the sweet sanctity of their happy trance. He stole 
out through the leafless wood paths to where Philip 
Ware rested under the snow, and with uncovered head 
he whispered, "Philip! Philip! I stood by your Made- 
leine today!" and then he came slowly back with a 
strange brightness on his rugged face! 



CHECKED THROUGH. 67 

CHAPTER IV. 

A MODERN PORTIA. 

It was with a bronzed face and a jocund air of breezy 
health that the senior partner of the great firm of Bash- 
ford, Blake and Bodley, presided over a little "war 
council" in their legal wigwam, to open the season of 
1891-92:. It was in the closing days of September. 
Bodley had dragged his reluctant spouse home from 
the delights of glittering Homburg, and her annual 
assaults upon Worth and the Bon Marche. He was 
now prepared to put his galled shoulders to the wheel 
to accumulate funds for the next "personally conduct- 
ed" raid upon the "effete monarchies!" Blake was in- 
vincible in a new repertoire of fish stories, astound- 
ing in their Munchausen flights. Hiram Bashford, 
having pulled the kinks out of Pacific Mail, had used 
his vacation to run over one or two Western lines of 
nerveless railways, in their care, peeped at pipe line in- 
terests, inspected several coal and iron concerns, and 
even conferred with some of their Western clients en- 
gaged in the poetic tasks of "pig assassination," and 
other genial tricks peculiar to those Chicago men who 
gallop the beasts of the field into their golgothas, soon 
to emerge neatly canned, labeled and boxed, "all on Chi- 
cago principles!" The various underlings of the legal 
hive had given up "cutting the office," and dreamed 
now sadly of their vanished "summer girls" as the nim- 
ble pen sped over the crackling folios. Already the 
saucy-eyed detachment of women typewriters were 
noisily clinking and clacking away in the office at their 
infernal instruments of torture. 

Mr. Nathaniel Withers, the snake of this dangerous 
Eden, daily contemplated suicide or resignation, as the 
logical result of the work of these "smart women.'' 
Said the mournful Withers: "They can jam more in- 
accuracies into the same space than any other gang of 
key-tappers this side of Hades !" 



68 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"Is there anything special, gentlemen?'' carelessly 
asked the "chief," after two hours spent in strategically 
laying out the varied work of the three commanders. 
It had always been the custom of the house to allow 
Bashford unlimited "rope" in the "long haul" of the 
dragging load. Blake, anxious to nail some of his 
friends at the Lawyers' Club with his very best selec- 
tion of appalHng "fish tales," yawned as he looked at 
the hands of the clock now nearing half past twelve. 
He passed the query in silence. 

"Withers tells me," said Bodley, in a rasping voice, 
"that he must have help. Our business is increasing 
rapidly. The detail is vast," somewhat proudly said 
the pale-faced man, who was socially only a traveling 
trunk agent for his expensive wife. "We have accom- 
modation enough, our clerical force is good, but our 
students are practically useless, and Withers must have 
more intelligent aid in getting up our cases." It was 
a long oration for Bodley, who was accustomed to be 
snuflfed out by his imperative wife. He was only a man 
standing up in court, when beaming upon a jury, with 
his professionally benign grin, redolent of the beati- 
tudes, or else talking to the left eyelid of a drowsy judge. 
"What's your plan?" bluntly demanded Bashford, flour- 
ishing a paper cutter. It awoke Blake from a pleasant 
day dream in which he stood once more by the black- 
ened pools of the McCloud River. He was now only 
a "fisher of men" as he genially murmured, "Know a 
fellow, good lawyer, fellow about thirty, Seaton Ben- 
nett, Columbia College man, smart, rattling worker, 
and has a big pull with Tammany. You know what 
that means." The seniors nodded with a gleam of ap- 
proval. 

"He wants to come in with a strong firm," resumed 
Blake. "He's a good fellow, a rattling good lawyer. 
I've been out fishing with him — man you would like." 
Blake's fingers twitched as if he were landing Seaton 
Bennett, a plump young trout, into a legal pool where- 
in the three great fish gravely swam and desported 
themselves with such modest dignity "as the law al- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 69 

"He could bring us a good deal of business," wan- 
dered on Blake's catchy description. "Croker may 
shove him into Congress some day. He's a very handy 
chap. I think he's reliable." There was a faint shade 
of doubt suggesting a lack of ultimate confidence. 

"I would not want his name to go at once into the 
firm," cautiously said Bodley, mindful of the "next an- 
nual outing" of his wife, who was a veritable money- 
eater. "Oh, he would be satisfied with a good round 
salary and a five per cent commission on the year's 
profits," calmly said Blake. "He wants to get down- 
town standing so as to work back at Tammany Hall." 

Bashford threw up his head with a snort. "Does he 
drink and hang around the Hoffman House?" The 
senior feared to see a man with a brazen jaw, a fierce, 
empurpled mustache and a large diamond horseshoe 
pin. Blake laughed. "Oh, he's a very nice fellow. Not 
that sort Just keenly ambitious and a man who is 
bound to get on. He's a club man, and very good 
form. I would not bring any 'heeler' into our circle 
here." 

"Of course not," smoothly said Bodley, pouring on a 
sample of that "court-room oil" with which he usually 
soothed the refractory witness. "Is — is he married?" 
Bashford smiled grimly. He well knew that Mrs. Bod- 
ley aspired to wear the ermine, for what the breezy 
Texan would call "the whole outfit." That resplendent 
woman had eclipsed her patient husband and she also 
shone in the borrowed light of the two unmarried 
partners. Mrs. Bodley aspired to do the whole "Egeria 
business" for one of the heaviest legal machines slowly 
rumbling along in New York. Her occasional visits, 
when she rustled in pride through the cavemed recesses 
of the William Street fortress, filled the pert typewriters 
with smouldering envy, and simply "paralyzed" the am- 
bitious students who lurked around the library and 
filled its cosy comers not sacred to copying presses or 
dictionary racks. These feeble, callow youths, whose 
pale cheeks spoke of the cigarette craze and the "cork 
room" at Koster and Bials, were patterns ol ftress ^xA 



70 CHECKED THROUGH. 

amiable uselessness. Crowded in by various impor- 
tant families, where tin boxes adorned the noble row 
gleaming on the walls, with yellow labels, these young 
men were all elegant stipendiary dependents on their 
relatives. By some occult process they were supposed 
to imbibe "law'' in the highly charged atmosphere of 
this intellectual "pneumatic caisson." They were the 
very despair of Withers, who feared to bully them too 
much, and they notably interfered with the head clerk^s 
forlorn hope pursuit of the fair typewriters in the brief 
hour allotted to the mid-day consumption of dough- 
nuts, caramels and Hudnuf s strawberry cream soda. 

"Mr. Bennett is not married," wearily said Blake, as 
he reached for his hat and cane. "Shall I bring him 
down to see you?" The two seniors looked at each 
other and nodded their assent. Blake was well into the 
tale of the entrapment of a twelve pound trout with 
an eight ounce rod, at the Lawyers' Club, before Bash- 
ford and Bodley finally closed a serious conversation 
they had drifted into. There was some slight shadow 
of a first estrangement between them as they coldly 
separated, and Hiram Bashford stumped away into his 
private office, closing the door with a thundering bang. 
Mr. Nathaniel Withers, sly and cat-like, jumped at the 
sound as he received the snappish orders of the petu- 
lant Bodley. "The chiefs have been rowing each 
other," he gleefully thought, with the usual insinuation 
of a mean mind. It had come about in this wise. When 
Blake departed, Bashford, lighting a cigar, said calmly: 
"There is something I should have mentioned before, 
Bodley. I will let you decide as to bringing in this 
young man Bennett. It might be a very good idea. 
Scan his qualifications closely. We cannot afford to 
make mistaikes in our practice, you know." 

Bodley was delighted at the semi-confidential tone 
of this declaration, as it gave him a newer hold on the 
absent fisherman. He was, however, astonished when 
Bashford earnestly said: "I wish you to be suited and 
use this new man as your own special aide-de-camp. 
You are always overworked. I am going to put a 



CHECKED THROUGH. 71 

young lady in here as a special assistant to the librarian, 
and also to give her an opportunity to learn practice." 

"A woman lawyer!" cried Bodley, as his face at once 
stiffened into a sour discontent. Bashford went on, 
with measured gravity. "Yes, a woman lawyer. She 
is the only daughter of my old friend, Judge Philip 
Ware, who died last year. She studied for two years in 
his office and has just finished the two years' course at 
Lehigh brilliantly, in one year." Bodley arose and then 
paced the room in a silent mutiny, the first of the long 
partnership. Henpecked and driven about at home, 
he -was a worm that turned now in sheer affright. "Is 
she really competent? Does she know anything of 
law?" he doubtfully demanded. "She has passed a 
splendid examination and was admitted with flying 
colors,'' innocently rejoined the chief. He was only 
thinking of his dear dead classmate. "Why! Jarvis, of 
Wilmington, tells me that she really worked up all of 
Ware's practice in the last two years of his life. I've 
been with her for a month this summer, and I find 
that she certainly knows as much as any one of our 
second grade men here." 

"I suppose she is young and good looking?" said 
Bodley, with a strange blindness to the peace of the 
legal realm. Hiram Bashford sprang up, and then his 
eyes blazed fiercely, but he only quietly replied, in an 
altered tone, "I will give Miss Ware an office adjoining 
mine, and busy her in the special affairs under my 
charge. You can consider her as my own personal em- 
ploye. See that no one bothers her. I'll not permit it." 
The g^eat-hearted counselor had seen the glance of 
slurring malignity which escaped the usual retention of 
the prudent "second fiddle of this legal orchestra." 
Bodley walked silently to the door, defeated and 
humbled. He turned at the threshold. "And, about 
this man Seaton Bennett?" "I am not in the habit of 
changing my mind every ten minutes, Mr. Bodley," 
sharply said the chief. "Do what you will in that mat- 
ter, and let my side of the house alone." 

When Bodley had hastily gained the teiu^e ol \&& 



' 72 CHECKED THROUGH. 

own room he then rang for Withers and rasped him 
down a bit. Then, wandering out, he nursed a grow- 
ing personal grievance all the way down the fifteen stor- 
ied elevator shaft. It was the firsttime that he had been 
called "Mr. Bodley." He shivered with fear as he 
thought of the dire results of the angered Bashford 
leaving the firm. It would then be "Hamlet" with no 
"Prince of Denmark." "I see trouble ahead," he 
moaned, as he humbled himself with a scanty lunch of 
pie and coffee. For he had come out decidedly second 
best in the tilt and he even feared to break in on Blake's 
best fish story at the cosy Lawyers' Club, where that 
imaginative sportsman was now "trying it on a dog." 

Counselor Bashford sat down and drove his pen 
deeply into the firm ivory paper he affected, as he in- 
scribed a few meaning lines, addressed 

"For 
"Miss Madeleine Ware, in care of Mrs. James Ren- 
wick, Castle Atwater, Williamsport, Penn.^ 

The brief injunction, "Come on to New York at 
once. Telegraph and I will meet you," was his im- 
perative answer to the mutiny of Bodley. The chief 
affixed a seal, with a vigorous jab at the wax, and then 
hurled the letter down the mail chute himself. He 
slowly possessed himself of top-coat, hat and cane, and 
passed Head Clerk Withers with a curt remark: "I'll 
be away all day. Send anything of importance to the 
house." Single-minded in his devotion to his sacred 
trust, he had not noticed the peculiar raising of Bod- 
ley's eyebrows when he had said, "I have been with 
her a month this summer." It was just as well, for thfe 
fate of the firm had trembled on the very ragged edge. 
It was only in his own library, far away uptown, that 
he finally recovered his shaken equanimity. He 
glanced carelessly around the substantial splendors of 
his own vast home. For the first time the man who had 
weakened upon the question of "the intellectual fitness 
of woman in the future" saw the chilling clouds blowing 
over the fair and upward pathway of his beloved 
protegee. "If I could only have her here, and give 



CHECKED THROUGH. . 73 

to her the dignity and protection of my own home.'' 
He caught a glimpse of his rugged world-worn face and 
iron gray mane in the pier glass as he sat alone at 
luncheon. "I am old enough to be her father," he 
sighed. But the fatal "qu'en dira t' on" had faced him 
first in his partner Bodley's imperceptible sneer. 
Though he had not resented it to the full, it had really 
cut him to the quick. "Poor darling. I am powerless 
to protect her, but she shall not want. By God!" He 
sprang up as he saw at last a lane of light, a new rift 
in the clouds. "I'll leave the old Hall to her, and she 
can live there and practice at Wilmington after I am 
off the course." He lit a cigar and, seating himself at 
his writing table, addressed an envelope to Mrs. James 
Renwick and another to Mrs. Martha Van Cortlandt, 
of Madison Avenue. "I must prepare for Maddy's ar- 
rival," he mused. When he had dispatched these let- 
ters he carefully examined a series of envelopes en- 
dorsed "Estate of Ware vs. Shearer." It had been with 
a fiendish delight that he had thrust the legal javelins 
of attack into the now thoroughly frightened Robert 
Shearer. When the bank's notes had all been paid in 
full some lingering outside assets had settled the other 
slender claims against the dead scholar's estate. The 
Ware property was, in fact, more than self-sustaining 
from its broad acreage, and the resolute orphan had 
forced him to withdraw the $25,000 surplus of 
his over-bidding. "Hold the Hall. I may live 
to earn it back. Who knows?'' the brave girl had 
answered, accepting only the counsel and god-speed of 
her protector. "Well, then. Lady Mine," said Bash- 
ford, "I will now go after Mr. Robert Shearer for 
fraud and misrepresentation, and see if you cannot 
buy your own home again, with your own money." On 
this particular September afternoon Bashford smiled 
grimly as he read a letter from "Jarvis & Thorne," for- 
warding a timid offer of compromise from the fright- 
ened usurer. "Ha! Wants to compromise, does he?" 
growled Bashford, and he sounded a ringing peal upon 
his bell. "Be sure you mail that with caxe, ka^^t^cysv^ 



74 CHECKED THROUGH. 

he said, as he gave his man a letter, with the briefest in- 
junctions to the local attorneys to refuse all such of- 
fers. "Push the case on for trial as soon as you can. 
ni come down and try it myself," were the words which 
later carried dismay to the pudgy hero of the "Kaolin 
Company'' deal. Mr. Robert Shearer had lived to find 
the dead man strike back at him from the tomb, for all 
just men secretly avoided him, and his brutal behavior 
on the day of the auction had been noised far abroad. 
In the long year of her probation at Lehigh University 
Madeleine Ware's noble womanly face gave no sign of 
sorrows past, of vain regrets for "lost position" in the 
aristocratic old county. Her lips were sealed, and Rob- 
ert Shearer meanly rejoiced at the woman's high- 
minded pride. It saved him trouble. Wrapped up in 
the love of her Ogontz classmate, shielded by Bash- 
ford, and fondly ministered to by Florence Atwater's 
kindly brothers, the way had been made smooth for the 
beautiful orphan, who studied with all the ardor of her 
sinless ambitions. It was only in that bright vacation 
month, when Counselor Bashford came to Castle At- 
water, that the sealed doors of her heart were reopened 
again to life and love. The president of the University 
had at last given her the sealed diploma she coveted, 
and her face lit up, for the first lime, when the little 
Pennsylvanian princess gathered Mr. James Renwick 
into her fold, and became the delighted recipient of 
brother Hugh's promised diamond necklace. There 
was a great mustering of the clans of Atwater and Ren- 
wick. From their mountain eyries, lit up with coke 
ovens and flaming forges, from hills braided with their 
railroads and founded upon their patrimonial iron 
and coal beds, the Atwaters came gladly to the wedding 
feast. A pert scion of the line, escaping from his ship- 
yard, jovially remarked to Hugh, the stalwart chief of 
the clan, "I am sorry for Jimmy Renwick. Such a 
dance Florence will lead him." Hugh snubbed the 
young caviller with the remark, "Go thou and do like- 
wise. Get married and be sensible. Only, youll never 
£nd a girl Jike our Flossie." 



CHECKED THROUGH. 75 

Mr. James Renwick stood up like a man and sub- 
mitted meekly to the yoke of matrimony. He stole a 
timid glance at the flashing-eyed Princess of Mischief 
standing beside him in her shimmering silks and won- 
drous bridal veil as she demurely promised "to love, 
honor and obey." Renwick enjoyed the scepter for one 
single night of maddening bewilderment. He resigned 
the truncheon of command on the very morrow to 
the little lady, who forthwith charmingly ignored the 
third clause of the "triple-headed contract." But, "it 
was merry in hall." Counselor Bashford footed it 
deftly at the feast and was the subject of much com- 
plimentary notice in the obsequious society journals, 
•who were duly "convulsed with the event." Madeleine 
Ware threw her arms around the happy little bride in 
a transport of tender love when she found her splendid 
rooms had been refitted with all the choicest spoil of her 
dear old home upon the Delaware. "You must thank 
Jimmy," lovingly said Mrs. Renwick. "It was his idea." 

James Renwick was really a man of mark, despite 
the hampering of the golden spoon. It is true that he 
was a gilded youth, a curled darling of the Philadelphia 
City Troop, a light of Coaching clubs and Polo ban- 
ditti, a staunch yachtsman, and very deft with rod, gun 
and oar. But a manly light gleamed from the blue eyes 
of the big, bearded, blonde fellow who had capitulated 
to the dark-eyed fairy, whom he had served his seven 
long years for. The course of true love, for once, did 
run remarkably smooth, and it was while the young 
married fugitives were away in the "lune de miel" that 
Mrs. Martha Van Cortlandt came on from New York 
to matronize the succession of festivities which de- 
lighted the gathered clans. Madeleine Ware learned 
of the thoughtful devotion of the absent lovers when 
her own home nest in great New York was arranged by 
the cheery Knickerbocker wddow, one of the Renwick 
clan. "You shall not be a stranger within the gates," 
said the newcomer. And, in the too quickly flitting 
days of Bashford's vacation, wandering in the beautiful 
Pennsylvanian hills, the modern Portia poured out Vvet 



76 CHECKED THROUGH. 

heart to the man who "had wealcened," only to rise 
above his olden self in a ten-fold strength of faith in the 
possibilities of this splendid womanhood. 

The snows of Christmas week were wreathing the 
stately mansions of the avenue with fleecy mantles of 
glistening silver, and the sound of jingling bells was 
merry in the park, as Counselor Hiram Bashford sped 
along behind his grays in earnest converse with Mrs. 
Martha Van Cortlandt. Far away down town the 
closed offices echoed to no rustling folios, and the brisk 
winds whistled coldly past the great office buildings. 
The breezy blasts from the Mohawk Valley, with a 
touch of Canadian chill, stirred the tatters of the poor, 
tramping down the muddied crystal harvest, which to 
Hester Street meant only a keener edge to the sharp- 
ness of their daily miseries. Not a single poor 
"rounder" staggering toward the comer gin shop, in 
the purlieus where Kris Kringle never comes, not a 
haggard-eyed arab slinking into a columned doorway 
to escape the harsh policeman, was haunted with bit- 
terer cares than the great lawyer and his companion 
on this sleighing dash. 

It had been no ordinary vacation run which had 
taken beautiful Madeleine Ware far away to the luxu- 
rious interior of Castle Atwater. Genial Hugh Atwater 
himself had brought on his own bright-eyed Pennsyl- 
vanian life partner to convey Madeleine away "for a 
run." The kindly suggestion of Mrs. James Renwick, 
now straying "by the unfamiliar Amo," far beyond the 
seas, was reinforced by several private letters from the 
chief. "Try to draw her out, to gain her confidence, 
to find out what may be done to ease her mental pre- 
occupation, Hugh," was Bashford's last prayer. "This 
girl is driving herself straight onward in a stoical self- 
devotion to a profession, where, I fear, she will pluck 
but barren honors at last. Grod bless the child. It is a 
case of self-immolation as regards the head, of a con- 
tinued strain unrelieved by meed or laurel ; as regards 
the heart, of simply 'suspended animation.^ " The gen- 
erous Pennsylvanian's brow was clouded. "I am too 



CHECKED THROUGH. 77 

clumsy fingered to handle the delicate crystal of her 
nature," he sadly said. "I'll put the little woman 
on to draw her out. By the crackling back log and 
under the mistletoe, she may warm up to a bit of real 
womanly confidence. That's all I can do. See here, 
Bashford, is the legal career going to be a failure? Is 
Madeleine unhappy?'' 

Hiram drew a great breath as he said: "It is going to 
be a cruel sacrifice — a sacrifice of as sweet a woman as 
God ever made. You see, Hugh," he reluctantly said, 
"the practical objections to the plan are, as usual, the 
more vulgar, unforeseen details which are passed over, 
always, in any abstract consideration of right and 
wrong. I have been educated to this by watching the 
girl, *a stranger within the gates,' in these last five 
months. She labors under the fearful handicap of a 
pure womanhood, in the indiscriminate struggle of 
life. It's no use. Practical life is a rough and tumble, 
not a courtly fence of rapiers. Now, if Madeleine were 
only one of the 'getting on' sort. If she were only un- 
scrupulous, pushing, brazen, unsexed, or slyly corrupt, 
she could be a public standard bearer, and have her 
hardened face the bright attraction of a dozen daily 
journals. Make her happy, God bless her, while with 
you, Hugh. I must try some way to lighten her load, 
to brighten her onward way." He paused in deep de- 
jection, and Hugh Atwater then anxiously asked: 
"Does she complain? Is she breaking down?" He 
dimly guessed the nature of some of the unforeseen 
frictional influences. 

"She would die at the stake before she would aban- 
don the path carved out by her high convictions. I only 
wish to God she would throw it up. For I can now 
see, Hugh, that I cannot fight this grim battle for her, 
nor even shield her in the hurly-burly of a great Baby- 
lon. There's no way that a man can do it — a man in 
my position." The lawyer's voice was sad enough. 

Counselor Bashford had secretly devoted his Christ- 
mas week to a series of conferences with Mrs. Martha 
Van Cortlandt as to the reserved inner heart life of 



\ 



78 CHECKED THROUGH. 

the stately neophyte. There had been long hours of 
serious converse and an unreserved interchange of 
views. The widowed society woman knew every de- 
tail of the office life of the absent girl. Bashford told of 
his cautious fencing off every intrusion, of the mingled 
animosity and impertinence of the attendants, the sly 
approaches of the visiting younger members of the 
profession, and the ill-concealed aversion of his part- 
ners, Blake and Bodley, to this modem Portia. "There 
seems to be an undertone carrying her out beyond the 
life line, all the while," remarked Bashford, as they sped 
along through the park. "I fancied when Madeleine 
Ware came to our office that my own frank statement 
of our acquaintance, that my years and my lifelong 
friendship for her father, would silence the idle tongue 
of cavil. Ah, my friend, I find that I can do so little for 
her. My protection is a protection which does not pro- 
tect. There is an interrogation in every eye. Even the 
details of her coming and going are daily experiences 
of covert insult. If she walked, I presume she would 
be stalked like a timid deer. If I sent her down in a 
coupe, it would be only a ridiculous assumption, and 
then the tongue of scandal would wag. In all these 
goings and comings she is 'under fire,' and if I accom- 
panied her habitually I might as well proclaim her 
social ruin." He groaned in his powerlessness. "It 
seems, in some strange way, that a woman seeking an 
individual career is outside of all friendly lines of sex 
or station, and she battles in the open alone. There is 
a steady, unseen current always setting dead against 
her." 

"And is Madeleine destined to be a failure as a law- 
yer?" anxiously queried the widow, heart and soul in 
sympathy now. It all seemed so unfair, so cruel! 

"She can always be of the greatest value as an as- 
sistant," carefully stated Bashford. "Her keen brain, 
her splendid knowledge, her intuitive perception of 
the true current of the law is wonderful, but," he 
gloomily added, "she cannot have the needful scope 
for individual action, or a chance to command the 



CHECKED THROUGH. 79 

f 

K 

proper respect due her as a qualified member of the 
bar. She is neither *a freak nor a fraud/ and I am 
ashamed to say the pressure of the men who are 
thrown in her professional company is exerted to force 
her to go either forward or back. It is the old thing, 
Mrs. Van Cortlandt. It is the gulf of sex which di- 
vides her from her yoke fellows. If men would only 
adopt a fair-play system with women they could soon 
winnow out the wheat from the chaff. Now, here is the 
strange paradox. The woman who only asks to be let 
alone will never be let alone, by the hard-hearted men 
who crowd in upon her dignified reserve. By heavens, 
there is but one man in our office who seems to know 
how to treat a woman of heart, brain and soul. Now, 
there's this young fellow Bennett. He is coming into 
a private association with us for five years, on the first 
of next January. He has all the manners of a gentle- 
man and the fine discrimination. I have watched him 
narrowly in the few months of his 'private trial.' He 
has never even raised his eyes toward her, and, good, 
sound lawyer as he is, he tells me she is more effective 
to-day than any of his fellows of the younger bar." 

"You like this Seaton Bennett, then?" quietly said 
the widow, with a queer twinkle of her eyes. 

"Bodley tells me that he fills the bill wonderfully 
well," answered Bashford, "and the cases he has got 
up for me are certainly splendidly prepared. By the 
way, has he ever called here?" 

"Only to leave formal cards on Miss Ware and my- 
self," said Mrs. Van Cortlandt. 

"He is wrapped up in political matters in his leisure. 
He has the congressional *bee in his bonnet,'" ab- 
sently said Bashford. "And he is a man who will get 
there, as they say, every time." Recalling himself, the 
great lawyer fixed his eyes on Mrs. Van Cortlandt, with 
a masterful glance. "Tell me of her home life with 
you. Does she amuse herself? Does she go out? Has 
she made any social friends? I feel that I must depend 
upon you, largely, in this, of course. If Mrs. Renwick 
were only near us, then Madeleine's Vvoxxts ol \fi\fcx^^^^ 



I" 



80 CHECKED THROUGH. 

would be a happy dream. But we cannot hold New 
York courts on the lawns of Castle Atwater, and our 
Madeleine does not want coddling — she only craves for 
'fair play.* " 

"Ah, that is just it," said the widow cautiously. 
"There seems to be no Umit to Madeleine's ambition, 
goaded on by her restless mind, and no set bounds to , 
her silent pride. She cannot see or admit her changed ^ 
position." 

"What changed position?" abmptly said Bashford. 

"Ah, my dear friend," sighed the Knickerbocker 
dame, "the laws of society are more rig^d than all the 
code of your storied Medes and Persians. There is 
always the fatal gap between the bread-winner and the f^ 
butterfly. The very women doomed to pass over to ]; 
the ranks of the toilers themselves at last are the very 5 
bitterest in upholding woman's own heartle^.creei 
Madeleine Ware, the daughter of the master oftflie^d ^ 
Hall, the heiress of ripened colonial glories, "tlifc. in- j. 
heritress of a famous social rank, is dead — deaid for- ' 
ever to the callous world. As Madeleine Ware, the ; 
adventuress, a veiled anonyma, she might even yet ■[ 
hover *on the fringe,' but, as Miss Ware, the practical ! 
young lawyer, she is tabooed by all the silly women ! 
who rule the seething society around her. You know 
that I sit in state, poor as the world goes, but with 
folded hands. I am supposed to be true to all the 
traditions of my race, to the obligations of the social 
rank I have always held. I am tacitly held up as being 
true to the necessary code of Fashion. I have tried to 
interest many women in Madeleine. There is a listless- 
ness in regard to her, which soon chills into neglect, 
and ends in aversion, as the icy wall of Madeleine's 
pride does not warm these feebly extended hands. It 
saddens me to know that you are not satisfied with her 
professional prospects, for, frankly, the social gates, 
one by one, are closing on her. She will soon be only *a 
stranger within the gates.'" Mrs. Van Cortlandt 
sighed. "You, my friend, as head of a great profes- 
sional system, know not the half of the daily happen- 



CHB3CKED THROUGH. gl 

ings around you. Those who would creep on Mad- 
eleine's semi-retirement under your wing are not likely 
to let you know of their tactics. I have seen her lately 
growing graver, paler, thinner, day by day, and I am 
assured that only the womanly sorrow which seals her 
lips has hidden from me the jar and fret of her false posi- 
tion, 'down town,' as you would say. In my own 
sphere I can convey her a bit from shore, but on the 
summer sea of New York society she is now powerless, 
motionless, rudderless, a noble castaway, a mere dere- 
lict, because, forsooth, she works." 

"And is there no help, no practical way out?'' 
groaned Bashford. "Must she be smothered in her 
bright youth for want of the free exercise of her God- 
given talent? Must she be trodden down under the feet 
of the unforgiving prosperous sisters who have not 
known sorrow?" 

"There is but one way," the widow slowly said. "A 
fortunate marriage might relieve her from this false 
position. Say what you will, it is a false position. It 
is a sacrifice for her to play the pioneer in a profession 
which is, as yet, virtually closed to women. It is a 
cruel fate that dooms her to obscurity socially. Now, 
Judge Bashford," the warm-hearted woman said, "take 
away your noble friendship, my social support, the 
home welcome she owes to dear Florrie. Put her 
friendless fighting against the world, what would be 
the end of the unequal struggle? Can you not see what 
fills the morgue, the mad house, the haunts where the 
crimson flag of sin waves? For there is a period to 
a woman's resistance, there are flood tides of emotion, 
there are lonely hours, despondent moods and all the 
sad accidents of sickness and poverty. This it is that 
makes marriage, a marriage with any man, if a for- 
tunate one, as the world judges, a sheet anchor against 
drifting on certain yawning reefs. Now, Madeleine's 
unawakened heart is spellbound in this fever of the 
brain. You see only the strength and fervor of her 
mental ardor. Have you ever dreamed that the pent-up 
tides of that lonely heart may break awa^"? Cio^\vs\^ 



82 CHECKED THROUGH. 

her. In the hour when she learns to love, it will be to 
her either the gateway of Paradise or else the gloomy 
entrance to the dark gulf. For we cannot fight the 
battles of her lonely life for her. She alone is on 
guard before the silent temple of her closed heart And 
even sentinels sleep sometimes, sleep on post," the 
widow mused. 

"You then think that a final marriage is the safest 
refuge for her," said the lawyer in a strained voice. 

"Since you admit her probable failure in the profes- 
sion of her choice, it is the only one," frankly said the 
New York duenna. "If Mrs. Renwick were at home 
I should urge her to win Madeleine at once back into 
her own social circle and there, in the reflected golden 
gleam of the Atwater millions, Madeleine could then 
marry on equal terms. It would be far better than this 
false position, this foreordained defeat. You prac- 
tically admit that you can do nothing for her; that you 
cannot change the way of the legal world any more 
than I can put heart or consideration into the hollow- 
headed people who are paddling along here, in the 
swim.** 

"But, she would not have fought her fight to the 
finish in this flank movement, the easy retirement of 
marriage," mused Bashford. 

"God help her if she ever does,'' solemnly said the 
widow. "She is too pure for the soiled channels of a 
vulgar daily life, too innocent for coquetry, too fond for 
idle scorning." The woman's heart swelled as she 
said: "I wish to God that I knew now a good man who 
would marry her and so break this deadlock." 

They were nearing the great city, where the myriad 
lights began to flash out in the splendid halls of "Easy 
Street," or on the watch towers of sin; gleaming out 
from the windows of happy homes, and flickering fee- 
bly from these casements, where the wolf haunted the 
rickety door. 

"I think that I know a man who would make her a 

good husband," said Bashford, speaking with an al- 

most childish simplicity. And the widow dropped 



CHECKED THROUGH. 83 

icr eyes in silence as the evening church bells rang 
►ut on the frosty air. 

"I think I know him, too," she thought, with a pride 
ti that honest tenderness which would "bridge the in- 
ervening years," to make the way smooth for the tired 
eet bruised on the rough stones of the flinty New York 
itreets. 

While Counselor Bashford was seated alone that 
light before his library fire, dreaming dreams which 
iiad never come to him before this day, near him, in a 
comer of the Manhattan Club, Mr. Seaton Bennett was 
carefully summing up the record of the dying year. 
He was neatly, even punctiliously, dressed and he had 
dined with that measured ceremony which he always 
respected. His carefully graduated salutations indi- 
cated the "modus vivendi" of his greatly improved posi- 
tion. A cat-like man daintily treading the stairway 
of life and looking behind, as well as forward, in plant- 
ing each onward footstep. "Sort of fellow you never 
get on with," was the secret verdict of many of his club 
comrades, as well as the legal profession. It was 
true that the young man "moved in a mysterious 
way, his wonders to perform." With an easy stride, he 
had gone through college, had soon laid hold upon a 
fair practice, had been recognized as a man of inherent 
strength and future promise, and as one who kept his 
counsel and that of others. He "showed up" fairly at 
the various places where the "lime lights" were thrown 
on him, and, although without intimates, "was already 
considered*' to have a good standing. Seated at the 
solitaire table, gazing at the faint blue wreaths of his 
cigar, he was the peer of any there — b, well-knit, soUdly 
put-up man of the very neatest social and physical 
grooming. His broad, fair brow, firm gray eyes, strong 
nose and sweeping mustache accentuated a face whose 
strong jaws were relieved by the softness of his full red 
lips and rounded chin. Sure of foot, keen of eye, 
rounded of muscle, and with a steady, cat-like gait, all 
his characteristics were proofs of the treasured vitality 
of his golden younger prime. In court, never swee^itv^ 



84 CHECKED THROUGH. 

on in eloquence, but strong-measured and able, he 
passed for his full "hall mark'' and apparent weight 
without a single question. The "clincher" of his formal 
entry into the great firm of Blashford, Blake and Bod- 
ley had quickly carried him one step from the General 
Committee of Tammany toward the inner circles of 
that "close corporation." Said a great leader, when 
his name came up, "He's worth a good deal down 
town, it seems. He's then worth just as much to us, up- 
town. Let him in. We'll find a future use for him." 
And so, all in all, the young man was a figure of grow- 
ing interest to those around him, who carefully noted 
his steady upward way. Bennett always "hunted 
alone," and his family Lares and Penates were supposed 
to be located somewhere in Western New York. His 
bright, hard, alert face was familiar at race course and 
meet, on the decks of yachts and in the foyer, but if be 
had "intimates," they, so far, had not materialized. A 
decorously kept set of bachelor apartments had been 
his well known headquarters in the five years wherein 
he had worked up a fair personal practice. And now he 
had "caught on." Neither a cynic, nor a reckless 
pleasure lover, his self-contained countenance was 
prominent in the vast overflowing human hive swarm- 1 
ing from Philadelphia to Montauk Point and from 
the Battery to Albany. 

There was a greenish gleam in his gray eyes an hour 
later as he turned away in disappointment from Mrs. 
Martha Van Cortlandt's door. "Out of town," he 
mused. "Gone to the country. I can wait,'' he mut- 
tered as he lit a cigar, and then calmly debated the at- 
tractions of the various theaters. "Yes, I can wait." 
And, as he sprang into the coupe, he murmured, "If 
that old meddler Bashford were only out of the way, if 
he would *go off the hooks/ I would get a grade in 
promotion and so, be nearer to her." Mr. Seaton Ben- 
nett was perfectly aware that the heedless Blake al- 
ready liked to shirk his own work on the willing 
shoulders of the man whom he had brought in, and 
even Bodley, fussy and vain, was already a captive to 



CHECKED THROUGH. 85 

Bennett's obsequious arts. For the young lawyer had 
a little private scheme of his own. 

"I must split those fellows up," he mused, "and per- 
haps this girl will fall my way in the wreck." For the 
aspiring young lawyer had certain little castles in 
Spain. Schemes which already haunted his dreaming 
hours, and the Greek-browed girl, happy under the 
mistletoe far away that night in Castle Atwater, had no 
second sight to pierce the mantle of Seaton Bennett's 
decorous reserve. But, his tiger heart had marked the 
defenseless girl down as a tender bit of prey. 

The new year had come in with a clang of jangling 
chimes and much conventional welcome. The slow 
mills of the legal gods ground away again, and New 
York society went feverishly on in glittering robes of 
pride to the sham penitence of the Lenten season, the 
rest decreed in Vanity Fair for gathering up the per- 
sonal and pecuniary forces, only to begin all over 
again. Madeleine Ware was again the grave-browed 
daughter of the law, and steadily moved on in her self- 
appointed orbit with no sign of weariness and without 
a single gleam of happy light in the lovely steadfast 
eyes. Once or twice the maiden had dropped her eyes 
in a sudden confusion, as Bashford communed with her 
in her office room. She had resolutely put away, from 
day to day, the conviction that it was her only safe re- 
treat. She knew not of the confidences of her great 
mentor with the Knickerbocker widow. She was ig- 
norant of the varied interviews in which Hugh At- 
water and Bashford debated the future of their be- 
loved modem Portia. There was a little packet of 
foreign letters in the counselor's private safe which 
breathed the spirit of dual loving kindness actuating 
those brilliant American exiles, Mr. and Mrs. James 
Renwick. It was when the leaves were nodding in the 
park, under the warming flush of the delicate spring 
sunshine, that the girl, wounded in her heart of hearts, 
closed the curtains of her home refuge against even 
Mrs. Van Cortlandt. The secret of those dark hours was 
never known to the grave-faced couple who lingered 



8C CHECKED THROUGH. 

in a last council below in the faded glories of the Van 
Cortlandt drawing rooms. It was in the silent darkness 
of the night, thrilled with the haunting memories of 
dear and vanished faces, that the wounded heart wailed 
out invoking that gracious shadow father of the happy 
past. 

"Ah! My God! This it is to be a woman. To suf- 
fer and be silent. To walk the path alone. The agony 
of four cramped walls. The petty theater of a single 
lonely room." And the words, "Father, I cannot bear 
it" were the last appeals wafted far beyond the earthly 
confines of the bruised soul. But there came to her 
soon an incident which stirred the slumbering heart of 
the girl to its unfathomed depths of tenderness. 

When, in the dull inertia of her slow recovery, Mad- 
eleine Ware faced the man who had unwillingly opened 
to her the way to these later trials, she knew the very 
burden of his thoughts before he had even finished 
his tender words. Bashford had taken her trembling 
hands and softly said: "Madeleine, I have not spoken 
until you might be again mistress of yourself. My 
poor child. My poor darUng,'' he softly pleaded, "there 
is one way, only one way, to give you peace, to shelter 
your dear head. It has cost me hours of self-examina- 
tion to see the light.'' He threw up his head in a noble 
defiance to the mongrel hounds upon her track. "Let 
me give you my name, the shelter of my home — ^your 
former home — ^the old Hall waits for you. Be my wife. 
I can defend you then. If not Love's golden dream, you 
will have peace, happiness, and you shall do as you 
will. And then, and there, safe now and in the future, 
harm shall not come to you." He kissed her trembling 
hands, for she had risen and stood before his rugged 
face, transfigured in tenderness, with softly shining 
eyes. 

"You would sacrifice yourself for me, to shield and 
protect me," she slowly said, her voice soft as the fall- 
ing dews of the night. "It cannot be." She bent her 
stately head, with cheeks aflame, and then kissed him 
softly on the brow. 



CHECKED THROUGH. " 87 

When he raised his head she was gone and her part- 
ing foot sounded lightly on the stair. He never knew 
how the word "Yes," trembling on her lips, was frozen 
by the pride of dependence, but, in that one sad hour 
Bashford, for the first time, mourned his vanished 
youth. "It shall be all the same at the end," he said, as 
he went away, "for, I will never love another mortal 
being. She shall have it all. The Hall and all the rest." 



CHAPTER V. 

THE JUNIOR PARTNER. 

It was a long and weary blank in Hiram Bashford's 
gray tinged life, that month before Madeleine Ware, 
pale of face, but with strangely gleaming eyes, quietly 
resumed her desk at the legal fortress on William Street. 
The great counselor had been unwearied in sending 
his mute messengers of fond remembrance. Books, 
flowers, the little social bric-a-brac of life, all these had 
brought a tender thrill to the woman whose sick-room 
interspection was only a maddening suspense. She 
longed but for her work, for the induced forgetfulness 
of daily fatigue, and felt a lurking desire to get away out 
of New York, somewhere, anywhere, for the golden 
chain began to gall at last. "He is so good, so noble, so 
tender," she thought, as the flowers at her side breathed 
forth their incense in a mute intercession for the dis- 
heartened man who now walked the resounding floors 
of his lonely house, gaunt-faced and hollow-eyed. 

Both of them knew that the veil had at last been torn 
away. She was but a woman, after all these vague 
dreams. Madeleine Ware feared to face the little legal 
world in which she was only a neglected microcosm. 
"They will all know," she tremblingly said, for the 
scales had also fallen from her eyes. "First and laj&t^ 



88 CHEJCKED THROUGH. 

only a woman after all," she mourned. There would be 
never any more those delightful evenings in which her 
friend led her along into the uplands of higher thought; 
the half hours of frankly unrestrained admiration in 
which she followed the clear rill of pure law flowing 
from his lips as he bent over her own projects of brief 
and pleading. They had seen each other clearly at 
last, and she stood before him as only a woman, weak, 
defenseless, and a thing to be sought for, to be pas- 
sionately desired, to be folded in arms throbbing with 
the pulses of manhood. Fear wrapped her as in a 
mantle, and in the few interviews of the first month 
her nature, chilled and startled, closed up as a clasped 
book, resisting even the touch of his hand. For she 
had curiously mistaken the delicacy of his desire to 
shield her from the general assault of the Goths of 
Gotham. Loyal and true at heart, Bashford sorrowed 
alone with a mighty sorrow. "She thinks that I, too, 
would hound her down into the conspicuous bondage 
of a brilliant moneyed marriage. A mere bargain and 
sale contract." He knew not women. He did not even 
know himself, and he did not realize that his single- 
hearted devotion to her had lifted him far above the 
demands of self. And, yet, marred as he was, by world- 
ly scars, he was yet far above her in this. Her instinctive 
self-defense was needless. And, as all women ulti- 
mately stand together against man, it pained and re- 
buffed him to find Mrs. Van Cortlandt also sullenly 
ranged on the other side. The good widow's mind 
had been tuned to a wordly key and she fancied that 
now she saw an ample justification for his previous gen- 
erosity in the pushing of what was to her a mere coldly- 
pushed matrimonial mortgage. 

The welcome approach of her usual summer vacation 
was a decided relief to the dowager. "Thank heaven, 
Mrs. Renwick will be home in November," mused the 
widow. "And, she must then take her oflf my hands. I 
can do nothing. The girl must either go back to her 
social status, or find another hdme to continue her 
foolish experiments in defying the world's longrsettled 



CHECKED THROUGH. 89 

codes." The good widow fitted snugly enough into her 
cushioned arm chair and, tired of battling in this vale 
of unceasing jar and fret, was most admirably adapted 
to the role of the human oyster. "I have gone just as 
far as I can,'' she decided, oyster-like, not having gone 
very far. But she easily decided that she was not her 
sister's keeper. "At the last, I fancy, she will be sensi- 
ble and accept him," was her sighing verdict. It was 
not exactly the Claude Melnotte style of a romance, but 
Mrs. Van Cortlandt was a great believer in the potency 
of a checkbook and the ease of a victoria, as compared 
with the varied "rapid transit" systems gauged on the 
five-cent plan. "After all, what can a woman do but 
yield at last," mourned Mrs. Van Cortlandt, who was 
prepared, modestly, to yield herself if "pressed" by a 
man of sufficient audacity and undoubted solid eligibil- 
ity. The news of a great national trust being given 
to the capable hands of the counselor agitated both the 
girl, now mentally "all at sea," and the widow, who had 
delicately notified Miss Ware that a sojourn in some 
other haven of Manhattan would be needed to cover the 
social eclipse of four months. "Perhaps she will not 
ever wish to come back," thought the widow, with a 
cowardly desire to rid herself of the ambitious girl 
whose life was only a series of fortuitous problematic 
positions, each more difficult of proper social solution. 
The State Department of the United States had called 
upon Hiram Bashford to battle abroad, almost single- 
handed, for American interests in one of the "High 
Joints," now so happily in vogue, to replace the more 
forcible sulphurous arguments of the cannon. It would 
take the great advocate abroad for a period of many 
months and, though not pecuniarily advantageous, the 
sorrowing man promptly accepted it. It brought a 
thrill of joy to two of the fellow laborers in the legal 
vineyard. The harvest of the season had been a rich 
one. Never before had the forensic enemies been smote 
so deeply, hip and thigh. In consultation with Blake 
and Bodley, Bashford congratulated his associates 
upon the fatness of the vintage. "There's tvo t^"as»o\N. 



90 CHECKED THROUGH. 

why you cannot take your run abroad as usual, Bod- 
ley," said the chief. **Vou will be back by the fall re- 
opening of the courts. We can use the cable freely and 
I can see you often in Europe." Bodley was delighted, 
for he felt that his aspiring spouse would glitter among 
the feminine follo\i'ing of the other continental "High 
Jointers" as a bright particular star. "I may perhaps 
need you to help me out over there,** reflectively said 
Bashford, for his new honors did not lift his leaden 
heart a single throb. Blake lifted up the eyes of a man 
eager to thread the tangled ravines of the McCloud 
River once more. *'\\^at about me?* "Oh, you can 
fish to your heart's content,*' gaily said Bashford, "for 
Withers will be 'at the front,* and Bennett has told me 
that he is willing to take charge for the summer. He 
is certainly a devilish capable fellow — a human steam 
engine," heartily continued the chief. "He has his 
eyes on a Congressional nomination this fall,** ejacu- 
lated the happy Blake. "He wants to stay here and woo 
the Tammany tiger.** "He*ll get there, too,*' remarked 
the cautious Bodley. "He is a man to get there every 
time. I never saw a man who could keep his head as 
clearly in the tangle of business. He has every case 
in our office at his fingers* ends.** It was unanimously 
decided that the jewel raked up by Blake should swing 
the firm's signature alone and "hold the fort** till Octo- 
ber first, when Bodley would again take up the legal 
"bat.** It seemed to suit all round, a generally satis- 
factory arrangement "By the by, what about Miss 
Ware?** timidly said Bodley, who had never referred to 
the modem Portia since the notable rebuflF he had re- 
ceived from the chief. Bashford*s face clouded. "I 
had not thought of that,** he said gravely. "I will in- 
duce her to take a year*s rest, if possible. I wish her 
to go over to Pennsylvania for a few months of the 
Blue Ridge magic air. She has been working too 
hard.** 

"The cramped conditions of city life are against her, 
coming from dreamy old Delaware,*' said Blake. "And 
I suppose that few women have the rough powers of 



CHECKED THROUGH. 91 

resistance we enjoy. But she is a wonder. Why, Ben- 
nett tells me that she has never made a single mistake 
in practice, and he would sooner trust her than With- 
ers to get up a case. Now, that's saying a good deal, for 
Withers is the best law clerk in New York and our 
cases have never been as well prepared as lately. Ben- 
nett takes Miss Ware's opinion every time in preference 
to Withers'. For she has that clear, logical training 
and grasp of pure legal principles that he lacks, crafty as 
he is." Hiram Bashford lingered in silence as if lost in 
deep thought. Bodley venturously spread the con- 
tents of his "universal oil" flask with a gentle sigh. "It's 
a shame, a crying shame, that she was born a woman." 
"Why so?" growled Bashford, waking from his trance. 
"That one little defect has ruined a really great lawyer,'' 
honestly replied Bodley. "A woman has no chance 
in the world, save under the loosely-fitting armor of 
matrimony," he continued. "They always make the 
best running in double harness." "Why should not this 
young lady succeed at last?" queried the chief, looking 
squarely into the faces of the two partners. "Well, you 
know," said the thoughtless but manly Blake. "You 
see, a woman has to fight herself clear and to get 
breathing room before she can take up her real work. 
And, one after another, they get tired, lonely, disheart- 
ened, discouraged and drop the defensive. Just then 
some watching fellow jumps in and, taking the weakest 
moment, when she is sorely shaken by trial or natural 
emotion, marries her or — " The junior partner paused, 
for there was a dark gleam in the old gray eagle's eyes. 
"Or what?" Bashford demanded. "Or something hap- 
pens to wreck her career," said Blake, as he fled away, 
for, he was navigating in shallow water. 

"I will leave all the office responsibilities to you, Bod- 
ley," said Bashford, as he rose. "You must overlook 
the juniors. I am not feeling just up to the mark." 

They clasped hands in silence and then Hiram Bash- 
ford dejectedly strode out of the office without a word. 
Blake's frank declarations and Bodley's regrets over 
that fatal bar of sex haunted him all the way u^toviw. 



92 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"Still for those slips of hers, one of Eve's family/' he 
murmured. "Now, if she had only been born to man- 
^ hood, I could easily have found a son in her, left her my 
fortune, and made the adopted one, heir to my prac- 
tice. But the 'dark tide of royal blood' flows between 
us. The fatal possibility of wifehood, motherhood, 
with its blended cup of joys and sorrows, the bitter- 
sweet draught, a Pandora's gift." 

He stopped a half hour at his bank and then quickly 
caught the nearest cab and hiu*ried uptown. Miss 
Ware had been absent from the office for several days 
upon the plea of "private business." The wifeless, 
childless man wondered vaguely what the "private bus- 
iness" might be. He had avoided both his beautiful 
charge and the easy-going dowager in these days of 
strange embarrassment. For Madeleine Ware had 
lately avoided him, beyond the mere necessary inter- 
course of the office. He felt at heart that a barrier had 
been set up between them. It could not enter his gen- 
erous nature that the proud independence of the lonely 
woman caused her to lean away from him in these, her 
hours of the saddest unrest. He knew not that a thou- 
sand uneasy projects had entered her restless mind. 
To go away and hide herself in the West, to teach, to 
essay literature, to face the world among strangers — ^all 
these things came to perplex her. For well she knew 
that they never could be to each other the frank, intel- 
lectual comrades of old. The master and pupil relation 
had vanished forever, for he had desired her in his heart, 
and the unhappy girl smarted under the wound her 
owq hand had dealt him. She had been quick to see the 
altered mood of that graceful Philistine, Mrs. Van Cort- 
landt. She had quietly cast about her, and the first 
retreat offering a respectable degree of safety had been 
selected. 

After nights of wrestling with the problem, Made- 
leine Ware had decided to go on to the end, rough and 
flinty as the road was. It seemed even easier to her 
now. "I will make the best of it," she cried, listening to 
the siren voice of womanly pride and ambition. "If I 



CHECKED THROUGH. 93 

cannot wear the crown, I will bear the cross. I will 
not be a dependent, I will not take the bounty of the 
hand I have rejected in marriage. His pity, his love, 
neither. But I will work to be respected by all men, 
even — '^ She shuddered as the wolves on her track 
came up in her mind's eye. "He will be away a long 
while. I will work through the summer, and perhaps 
another place may be open to me out in the Far West.'' 
For she knew too well that the border and Southern 
States opened no promising field to the aspiring in- 
dividual woman. 

The depth of their estrangement became apparent to 
Hiram Bashford as he was ushered into that old social 
"battle ground," Mrs. Van Cortlandt's drawing rooms. 
For at the door, men were loading a van with the 
trunks and book chests ominously marked M. W. Mrs. 
Van Cortlandt glided to her lair, unobserved, as Made- 
leine Ware, in street costume, noiselessly entered the 
rooms. Bashford sprang up, his heart beating wildly. 
"What is all this, Madeleine? You are going away, 
whither?" He had clasped both her hands, and the 
woman's heart melted. Though all too fond and blind, 
she could not but see the distress in his face and it 
touched her to the quick. For a wave of gratitude rolled 
over her shaken soul and she feared now that he loved 
her but too tenderly, far beyond the idea of self. She 
had acted only with that self-protective instinct which 
causes the maiden to ward away the first direct attack 
upon her personality, the first rude assertion that 
sooner or later she must be the thrall of one man, or 
the plaything of more than one. 

"I did not wish to burden you with my petty cares. 
Mrs. Van Cortlandt leaves for the summer. You are 
going far away and I must live somewhere, for I shall 
keep up my office work and studies all summer." Bash- 
ford hurled himself into a chair and passed his hand 
over his eyes as if to clear away a clouding mist. Mad- 
eleine Ware stood there trembling at heart before him, 
and in her beautiful eyes the unshed tears were already 
lurking. 



94 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"This must not be. Your sheet anchor is your home. 
I will cable to Mrs. Renwick. I will see Mrs. Van Cort- 
landt." 

The modern Portia shook her head gravely. 'Trust 
to me. It is better so. I must go on, go on to the 
end," were her faltered words. 

He drew her down beside him. "Listen to me,'' he 
said, "you are wearing out body and soul. Do not be 
blind to the true interests of your future. Go back to 
the Hall for a year. Let me open it. Jarvis will attend 
to all. Fll send Mrs. Bradford back there. Let me send 
your luggage there. Fll send all your books down. 
You can have Jarvis' library at your disposal. I'll have 
Hugh send everything from Castle Atwater. You need 
a rest — b. long rest. You have bravely met the ordeal of 
the first year. You have the golden years of youth and 
— art is long. There is. that action against Shearer. I 
wish you to study it up with Jarvis & Thorne. I will 
have to have it set over for the term. When I come 
back I will come down and try it. I'll leave you carte 
blanche till my return. Flossie Renwick will be back in 
November. Have a year's calm and quiet commune 
with yourself, and then, come back to us." 

The girl struggled with her warring soul, and in an 
ill-starred moment of tender pride Bashford told her 
of his colleague's praise — of Seaton Bennett's verdict! 
It was a fatal admission of her advance in the difficult 
tangles of the way perilous! "Did he say that?" the 
woman said, speaking under her breath. "Who?" re- 
joined Bashford. "Mr. Bennett!" replied Madeleine, 
with her eyes down drooping. It gave the lonely 
woman a strange thrill at heart, for never a glance of 
the eyes of the new guiding spirit of the firm had rested 
squarely upon her face. 

"He believes in your undoubted talent — and pre- 
dicts your final success!" was Bashford's rejoinder. A' 
faint crimson glow tinged the face of the woman at his 
side, and, bending under his laurels, Bashford forgot 
that Bennett was yet in life's ambrosial morning. He 
waited for his answer, and then the girl, with averted 






CHECKED THROUGH. 96 

lace, murmured: "I thank you. I thank you from 
my heart of hearts; but I will be happier at my work — 
and I have already engaged my summer accommoda- 
tions. I supposed that Mrs. Van Cortlandt had told 
you alir 

"She has told me nothing!" wrathfully replied Bash- 
ford, and he mentally determined to "have it out" with 
this slip-shod guardian of the rebellious angel. "If 
you are absolutely determined upon this course," 
gravely said the baffled advocate, "I must notify my 
associates, and make the proper dispositions for my ab- 
sence. But I beg you to listen — to hear me — ^to grant 
this parting wish! Madeleine, can you do nothing for 
me — nothing to send me away light-hearted?" His 
rugged heart was heaving in a strange storm of emo- 
tion. And again the fair woman at his side, in her af- 
frighted inexperience, read the words wrongly ! It was 
the olden suit, the offer of his name and fortune, in 
another form! She thought tenderly of the wooded 
reaches of the Delaware, of the fragrant breath of sum- 
mer stirring the rose tangles of the dear old Hall — of 
the moonlight silvering the sweep of the blue waters, 
and the song of the birds under her window. "It can- 
not be! It cannot be! Don't you see how I suffer? 
My God! I cannot bear it!" she sobbed, and her head 
was bending low as she covered her face with her 
thinned hands! 

Hiram Bashford arose in a silence which seemed to 
her an age! There was a look of intense pain upon 
his face which frightened her. "How old and worn he 
looks !" she thought, with a self-accusation which need- 
ed no beating of the heart, no "mea culpa," to tell her 
of the woe she herself had wrought! For they had 
found out that they were only man and woman after 
all, and the primal curse of Eve was upon her! The 
burden of sorrow and the breaking of hearts ! "I sail 
in two weeks," he said, in a muffled voice. "Hugh At- 
water is my only confidential representative. I pre- 
sume that you can trust him — if you cannot trust me! 
There is one thing I must do! I must see you iu YO\ir 



96 CHECKED THROUGH. 

new home before I sail, and now, I have but one favor 
to ask! I could not be tranquil a moment if I knew 
that you were in any way dependent upon others, or 
forced to transact the vulgar details of life with mere 
strangers. Here is a certificate of deposit, in your own 
name, for five thousand dollars! Anything else, Hugh 
will provide, for — he has my carte blanche !" The sob- 
bing woman felt the foretaste of the long days of ab- 
sence in the warning words! She knew that she 
would be soon left alone — a very "stranger within the 
gates." She had measured the shallow affections of the 
complacent widow! Flossie Renwick, too, was far be- 
yond the seas — ^and Hugh Atwater seldom left his fast- 
nesses in the Pennsylvanian hills, where he ruled over 
the toilers among the flaming furnaces. And yet, though 
her spirit yearned toward the strong man who was 
now going, pride and the fatal revolt against depend- 
ence hardened once more her throbbing heart. "My 
salary I can always take from you — ^nothing else! Make 
that arrangement in any way you wish. But, I will 
not accept this proffered money!" Bashford sprang to 
his feet and faced her, strong in his revolt against the 
spider-web thralls which bound her down. "Take this 
money, Madeleine!" he sternly said. "You shall not 
break my heart! If you do not," he firmly said, not- 
ing her hesitation, "I leave this house only to telegraph 
my resignation to the State Department! Then, by 
heavens," he cried, "I will stay at home — and — watch 
over you, from a distance," and he thrust the folded 
paper between her nerveless fingers. 

There was no withstanding Lancelot in his glory! 
The little hand of Madeleine Ware trembled for a mo- 
ment in his grasp. Bashford raised her cold fingers to 
his lips. "Some day you will know all, child!'' he 
sadly said. "The gloomy panorama of a lonely man's 
heart! Do as you will, my dear one, and may God be 
with you now and always!" He was gone before the 
pale-faced Portia could reach the door! Her arms 
were outstretched toward the great-hearted comforter, 
who had left with the anguish of despair thrilling every 
Sbre of his loyal nature. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 97 

And only a few paltry treacherous moments stood 
between her and the peace and happiness of his care for- 
evermore! Her trembling lips had faltered "Come 
back!" but Bashford was already speeding along, heed- 
less of his way. The summer sun had lost all its glory 
and brightness, and he cared not whither he wended I 
The world was now but a peopled void to him ! 

Far away down town, in his fox hole in the William 
Street fortress, Mr. Seaton Bennett was leisurely pre- 
paring to move up Broadway. "Bashford's off for a 
year — Blake out of the way— old Bodley mooning 
around Europe, and the fair Portia here for all sum- 
mer, alone! The deal is with me!" He smiled and 
plucked a fading rose from his buttonhole, crushing it 
under his foot, as he /ent dreaming on his way. 

No man was more admired in the afternoon parade 
of the New York city notables drifting uptown that 
evening than the alert, handsome young lawyer, whose 
sparkling eyes and swinging stride spoke of the stimu- 
lus of success. Hats were doffed right and left as Sea- 
ton Bennett sped along, the envy of his less fortunate 
fellows. He dropped into the Hoffman House in his 
course to note if any of the chiefs of the Wigwam were 
there. For, already in the outstretched arm of that 
worshiped fetich of yore, "Tamanend of Delaware," 
now, "Tammany of New York," he saw the signal wav- 
ing him on to the success he coveted. That out- 
stretched red man's arm was signaling him to cast his 
eyes toward Washington! Bennett fondly dreamed of 
a golden future as he sat in the saloon at a comer table, 
keenly watching the entrance of the cafe. "There has 
been a quarrel between them," he mused, as the face of 
the Greek-browed girl returned to him, the alluring face 
that had haunted his restless slumbers so long. For 
the bitter lusts of a Caligula burned in fierce red em- 
bers under the calm exterior of his hard, bright face! 
"Bennett will never die of enlargement of the heart!" 
was the just prediction of the class historian at Colum- 
bia. He had been quick to notice the growing estrange- 
ment which had escaped the eyes of the other two ijatt- 



98 CHECKED THROUGH. 

ners. For the fish scales had not yet fallen from 
Blake's eyes, and Bodley was engaged in the details of 
the triumphant foreign incursion of his imperious Alex- [.^h 
ander in petticoats! "I would just like to know all the 
facts !" he glowered, as he pondered over the promising 
future. "She has no near friends! The Chief is the 
very last man to give away a pointer, and I might per- 
haps make play on this Mrs. Van Cortlandt!'' HtV-x 
gave the latter forlorn hope up, after a most careful ^e 
cogitation. "The widow's a New York woman — cold le 
and smart! I could not get away from her after being rx 
confidential, and that would be dangerous in the future! r 
She is just as heartless as the rest of the New York p< 
women. The office people, too, know nothing of *My i^ 
Lady Disdain!' By God! She is a human iceberg! i< 
But, even ice can be warmed and melted with friction! j-' 
I suppose that the rude Chief went a little too far, and o 
is now *old man afraid of his record!' But I will have rl 
these long summer days all to myself! If she stays, 
sooner or later that woman shall be mine!" Bennett V 
started as a heavy hand was laid in a rough friendship 
on his shoulder. The rising lawyer resented the famil- 
iarity, but his face relaxed as Michael Doolan, Esq., 
of Long Island City, dropped into a chair beside him. 
Mr. Doolan, familiarly known as "Red Mike," was a 
shining light of the Long Island Democracy. His 
"oasis" on a prominent comer of that delightful burg, 
Long Island City, was the most resplendent gin palace 
on the Ev.st River. Its plate glass, gaudy pictures and 
long mahogany bars were the pride of the "boys!" In 
the convenient card rooms — ^thug and billiard sharp, 
"green goods man" and "short card" practitioner 
lurked to pounce upon the thrifty Long Island farmers 
returning from exchanging their garden truck for 
standard "green goods." Pool room, stock ticker, and 
adjacent bedrooms, accommodated all grades of the 
"fancy," from the "gentlemen" who disappeared for a 
few days, down to those who "stood not on the order of 
their going!" Mr. Doolan's four young men, active 
with ice pick and revolver, "maintained order" at this 



c 



« 



CHECKED THROUGH. 99 

Ealatial establishment," aided by the sleek police who 
attened upon this delectable moor." The great 
John L." had heretofore honored Doolan with many 
nights off," and the "joint" was the headquarters for 
quiet little gay parties "with or without crinoline at- 
tachments!" Tug and yacht captain, railroad conduc- 
tor, ferryman and rounder — ^all these sharp fellows 
bowed to the haughty Doolan, resplendent in his 
**headlight" diamond and the huge watch presented by 
the "Michael J. McMonagle Association," of the 
Ninety-Sixth Ward. A man of men was Doolan! Great 
at chowder confection — and an infallible authority 
upon fishing, duck shooting, and all the outings of the 
"sports" of Manhattan. "Red Mike" proudly boasted 
the title of a "square man," and his crimsoned visage, 
broad shoulders, keen ferret eyes and aureole of car- 
rotty hair were an oriflamme of victory to the cohorts 
who followed him. 

Those hidden chieftains who pulled the wires of New 
York politics well knew Doolan's low sagacity, his en- 
ergy, his rapacity and his brutal disregard of the flimsy 
conventionalities of law and order. "A safe man to 
push a ticket in danger,'* and to "roll up a majority." 
There was a sub-riparian political telepathy connecting 
"Red Mike" with the Lords of Tammany; and many 
and frequent were the councils of war held at his coign 
of vantage, so easily reached from New York, in di- 
verse handy ways, and "far from the madding crowd" 
of reporters! "Have something?" carelessly said Ben- 
nett, who wished to dispatch his too prominent friend 
with haste. And yet, "Red Mike" was a power — b, 
man not to be lightly offended! In his own up-town 
practice, Bennett had drifted into a casual acquaint- 
ance, ripening into a confidential understanding! Doo- 
lan himself regarded Bennett as a "coming man," and 
the lawyer knew he would some day have use for the ex- 
prize fighter, whose knobby fingers closed now on the 
welcome Manhattan cocktail, displaying a wealth of 
large, light brown freckles on his hairy hands, gleam- 
ing with several diamond rings of price. ^ ^ < >. «.-v ^ ^ 



100 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"See here, Counselor!" huskily whispered Doolan. 
"There's a rare shindy coming on this year ! Now's yer 
time to make a dash for Congress, and if ye play yer 
cards right, ye can have it this very fall!" "What is 
up?" anxiously said the ambitious lawyer. "There's a 
growing dissension in the Hall," curtly answered Red 
Mike. "If ye play yer cards right — I can help ye in 
this fall, now — the Long Island Sporting Club has a 
nice little haunt away down by Sag Harbor, and, from 
Saturday to Monday, this season, there'll be men down 
there who can soon put you where you belong! Come 
over and see me — and I'll make a deal with ye!" "What 
is this club?" doubtfully queried Bennett He was held 
several points above last vear's rating, and he "felt his 
oats!" "Oh! The club!' That's me! It's a little nest 
of my own!" proudly answered the leading "Spiritual 
Adviser" of Long Island City. "But every Saturday 
there's a little junta there ye ought to be in! There's" — 
and he leaned over in an alcoholic nimbus, whispering 
names that charmed the doubting parvenue. "I'll come 
when you want me!" resolutely said Bennett. "Then," 
heartily said Doolan, "you do the right thing with me, 
and ye're a made man! Ye stand well at the Hall. 
This big firm has done the business for you, but Lord 
love ye, if ye were left alone, they'd skin ye alive! 
Trust to me and I'll see you through and give you a 
square deal !" 

"What must I do first?" eageny murmured Bennett. 
"Only hold yerself free to move into the district that 
we may decide on, and then register there openly! If 
I make the turn, your part is only dumb show !" laughed 
Red Mike, "ni be over to see you next Saturday!" 
pledged Bennett, as he noted curious eyes now fixed 
upon them. 

When Bennett fell into uneasy dreams that night, he 
was tortured by both passion and ambition! But he 
had looked over the chess board ! "This is one of the 
fine ones, this Delaware iceberg," he murmured. "Left 
to herself, she will lean my way yet! I will be thrown 
into an easy daily contact with her now ! A little judi- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 101 

dous flattery on the legal career will thaw the outer 
crust! And — ^then — we will see — we will seel" But 
the very last thing he saw before his drooping eyelids 
was the tempting suffix M. C. to his own name. "Red 
Mike" had been the fairy godfather of his day dreams! 

There was no hint of rapprochement between the 
head of the great firm and the beautiful neophyte evi- 
dent to the lynx-eyed Bennett up to the very moment 
of Bashford finally leaving the William Street offices, 
on the eve of his sailing for Europe. A last long con- 
ference of the three seniors occupied that parting day 
— and Bennett, in the occasional interims of routine, 
saw no sign of unrest upon the face of the stately 
woman who seemed all unmindful of the going! A 
frank and hearty farewell from Bashford was coupled 
with the remark: "As Blake and Bodley go down to 
the steamer, I shall probably not see you there!" The 
words of compliment which followed were worthy of 
Bennett's low bow! The dreaming young Caesar af- 
fected a humility which had no place in his crafty na- 
ture. He was now playing his lone hand — ^and playing 
it to win I 

Bennett was curiously eager as he entered the office 
on the Saturday morning of the sailing! His furtive 
eyes turned at once to Miss Madeleine Ware's sanctum. 
She was busied at her usual duties, and as unruffled as 
if her heart were not filled with the stormy wretched- 
ness of a feeling of utter loneliness, a loneliness akin to 
despair! With a fine artfulness, Seaton Bennett avoid- 
ed breaking in upon her in the absence of the seniors, 
but — ^in the retirement of his privacy — he chuckled and 
rubbed his firm white hands. "Things are going the 
right way!" he cheerfully murmured, as he remembered 
his tryst with Red Mike on this Saturday afternoon, to 
meet the honorary members of the Long Island Sport- 
ing Club. "Mike has truly selected a good quiet cor- 
ner for his devilment," he chuckled. "Away up near 
Sag Harbor, among the sleepy islanders, a man could 
launch a battle ship out of the reach of the gay and 
festive reporter!" And so he left "My \jdA^ "D\^ftaxc? 



3> 



102 CHECKED THROUGH. 

to that silent strain which always breaks down the 
cwoman nature at last, the burden of her own loneli- 
ness! 

"She is a shy bird, this Delaw^ire beauty," he mused, 
"but, she wUl flutter down — ^at last. I wonder if the 
'coolness' has really settled into a frozen deadlock P 
Still he was as yet powerless to read the story of that 
pale, steadfast face bending over the jargon of the craft 
which they both followed! 

Far out at sea, Hiram Bashford looked sadly back to 
the fading shores of America, and bitterly realized that 
in this case the "one who goes" was not happier than 
the one who was "left behind !" He had made a final 
pilgrimage to the "model apartment house for 
women," wherein Madeleine Ware had taken her ref- 
uge under a year's engagement. He had charged Bod- 
ley, the only family man of the firm, with certain private 
commissions of loving tenderness. They included a 
visit in due state by the resplendent Mrs. Bodley, and 
also a blank guarantee in regard to Miss Ware, extend- 
ed to the agents of this improved Noah's ark — "for 
women only!" "Is there anything else that I can do?" 
he had demanded of himself. With a delicate consid- 
eration, he begged a parting favor of Madeleine Ware, 
seated in her reception room on the evening before his 
sailing. His heart smote him as he noted the carefully 
contrived excuses for the absence of real comforts, 
known as "the greatest modem luxury!" The beauti- 
ful woman, who had once been a stately figure in the 
splendid setting of the old manorial Hall, seemed out of 
place in this compressed human hive. Miss Ware, how- 
ever, was tremblingly alert and fearful of some newly 
offered evidence of his tender foresight. 

"I have notified Mr. Bodley, Madeleine," he cheer- 
fully said, "that you will have the sole use of my offices 
and my private library in my absence. Here are the 
keys! You have under your control a private door to 
each of the rooms, and you will thus be entirely re- 
moved from the slightest interruption of your studies! 
Mr. Bodley alone will represent me in all the firm's af- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 103 

fairs — ^and I have asked him to deliver to you in my 
absence, all my private correspondence and papers. He 
will also give you the safe keys of my private vault, and 
here is a memorandum of my wishes. If you wish to 
use the cable, then Bodley or Withers will instantly 
attend to it! I depend only upon you in these confi- 
dential private matters!" 

Madeleine Ware dared not refuse the trust, coupled 
with these delicate arrangements for her future com- 
fort and privacy. She feebly said: "I shall try to do 
my very best!" And then, with the deliberate self-de- 
ception of two estranged hearts, they lingered in an ex- 
change of the mere platitudes which can be made to 
fill up the slowly crawling minutes ! They left unsaid 
the things which they ought to have said, and said the 
things which they ought not to have said! When 
Bashford's anxious heart at last forced him to come 
back again to his old offers of the Hall, the girPs eyes 
were downcast, when he simply said: "Hugh and Jar- 
vis will fit up the Hall for you at a moment's notice ; re- 
member that ! I hope you will see your way to going 
down there! Remember it is yours at a moment's 
notice! Will you not be now persuaded?" With a 
sinking but defiant heart, the lonely woman resolutely 
replied: "My place is here, at my work! I cannot, I 
must not go away!" "I shall certainly see Florence 
Renwick, and beg her to write to you — and to urge this 
sensible plan upon you !" he persisted, in his old frank 
way. But, he was chilled and rebuffed, for her voice 
was strangely hardened as she said: "It would make 
no difference; I have taken my rooms here for a year!*' 
The pauses of constraint in their converse had. length- 
ened into an agonizing strain upon the woman who 
now felt the last ties of the past, hallowed by his loving 
kindness, breaking one by one! Bashford could not 
avoid seeing the sorrow which lurked behind this un- 
natural calm! "Promise me, for the sake of my peace 
of mind, Madeleine, that you will at least write to me 
each week, and — that you will consult me before mak- 
ing any change in your life! I may not see the way as 



104 CHECKED THROUGH. 

clearly as you do — but, I think that I have a right at 
least to know of your well being. You would not have 
me learn it from others?" Her whispered words, "I 
promise!" hardly reached his ear as he rose. "And 
now, God bless you! I go, but remember, first and 
last, you are to call on me !'' Her bloodless hands red- 
dened under his convulsive grasp, and his foot echoed 
heavily upon the stair, as he went out hopelessly into 
the night! It was a dreary "Good-bye!" 

She looked down from her casement — ^and there, in 
an uneasy march, she saw the stalwart form of the man 
she had sent away so coldly, striding up and down, a 
sentinel of love — under the darkened windows of his 
rebellious charge. She dared not call him back. Made- 
leine Ware staggered to her couch, and her last cry of 
lonely anguish voiced the prayer of her heart! "If he 
did not love me — if he only would forget me!" But, 
sundered in spirit, only the two who had parted knew 
that the legal experiment had failed already! Bash- 
ford swore that night a mighty oath, that his death 
should set her far above the unequal struggle against 
the counter tide of opinion! "She will know me, at 
last — some day, she will know all!" he vowed in his 
heart of hearts. For he now felt himself powerless to 
change the way of the world, and he had also learned, 
to his bitter cost, that the world will have its way! That 
no relation he could form with her, save the proprietary 
one of marriage, was proof against the world's sneer! 
And his keenest pang, as the ocean winds drove the 
vessel on, was the thought that the girl still feared the 
assertion of his demand for her hand, by the evidences 
of her unpaid debt of gratitude ! 

The first general order issued by Commander-in- 
Chief Bodley after the departure of that eminent coun- 
sel of the United States, Hiram Bashford, was to care- 
fully acquaint the juniors with Bashford's directions in 
regard to the modem Portia. Bodley had "swelled vis- 
ibly" under the new sense of his enhanced importance, 
although the mantle of the absent chief fitted him a 
trifle loosely! But bravely did he ruffle it, as he rang 



CHECKED THROUGH. 105 

his bell with all the dignity of a Richelieu who repre- 
sented even more than his absent king! Much skir- 
mishing with the artful partner of his bosom had made 
Bodley himself a bit of a strategist, and so he watched 
the face of Seaton Bennett — keenly — as he delivered 
Bashford's injunctions to that impassive young legal 
Napoleon. 

The unshaken nerve of Mr. Bennett stood him in 
great stead upon this occasion. He had just returned 
in triumph from a first outing with the Long Island 
Sporting Club. There were already shadowy political 
crowns dancing before his eyes, and he had listened to 
voices as weirdly prophetic as those of the three grim 
witches who waited on the blasted heath for the battle 
consecrated Thane of Cawdor! Bennett only listened 
attentively to his senior's disclosure! His calm face 
showed no sign of interest, as he carelessly said: "I 
presume that you will transact all personal business for 
Mr. Bashford until your departure, however?" "Oh! 
Certainly, certainly. Miss Ware will only take charge 
of the current legal routine affairs for Bashford, after 
my departure. Of course, all his strictly private mail 
and papers will be at once handed over to her! By the 
way, I sail in a month myself!'' Bennett took up his 
pen as he queried: "And, after your departure, Miss 
Ware will have sole charge for Bashford, in your ab- 
sence?" "That's just it, and you will have absolute 
control of all the firm's business, after Mr. Blake goes 
away. Withers will report to you alone, and I have no 
doubt that Miss Ware will ask your advice in any mat- 
ters peculiarly under her charge, while Blake and I are 
away. She is a woman of rare judgment, and, of 
course, no one is to interfere with her at all! She has 
carte blanche as far as Mr. Bashford's side of the house 
goes! It will relieve you, for you'll have enough to do, 
as it is!'' 

"All right!" simply said Bennett, as he gathered his 
papers, and then sped away to watch the calling of sev- 
eral heavy court calendars. 

"This is a king strike," the young Caesat rcvwVV^t^^^ 



106 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"for, I will reign in the absence of these two men. Miss 
Ware shall have my very best assistance! I am hers 
to command!" and he smiled in thought at the long 
months of the summer vacation, and there was a de- 
licious sense of triumph as he looked forward to the 
cosy future days of commune over the vast details of 
Bashford's own affairs. "The courts will be out, and I 
fancy I can put in a very pleasant summer between the 
Long Island Club and this shy bird of Paradise! She 
is fluttering down to -me at last!" And his hard heart 
was strangely light. 

Dark words of prophecy! True words of keen pre- 
science! For the golden days of the early summer 
changed slowly into the fierce glare of the solstice. 
There was the same decorous swing of the legal pen- 
dulum, ever pulsing in the half deserted fortress on Wil- 
liam Street. The listless students had one by one 
dropped away for the vacation like nerveless leeches, 
gorged with the imbibed legal pabulum. The clerks, 
in due rotation, fled forth to taste their scanty summer 
joys, and even the pert typewriters divided the dimin- 
ished labors in rotation — ^these keen-eyed majority 
lending a new enchantment to the murmuring sands of 
the gay Manhattan Beach and lively Long Branch! 
Two of the four great elevators of the huge business 
building were now sufficient for the upward travel of 
the vicarious crowds, and the absent Blake and Bodley 
were deep in their respective fads of "fish'' and "French 
millinery!" The journals of the time were full of the 
reported doughty deeds of America's legal champion, 
battling afar over the green table of the High Joint — 
and even Nathaniel Withers — he of the parchment 
cheek and fishy eyes — had found him a lair in New 
Jersey, where he gallantly fought the fierce mosquitoes, 
and, thus busied, "enjoyed the summer!" The City of 
New York sweltered, glowed, shimmered, and cooked 
itself up to a blood heat in the slowly dragging dog 
days. The half-deserted offices of Bashford, Blake and 
Bodley now presented strange paradoxes of queerly 
divided duty ! 



CHECKED THROUGH. 107 

The head clerk came late and departed early! But, 
while every unwilling subordinate, relaxed and en- 
feebled, sought the emotional relief of shirking duty, 
going in for the "beer and skittles" of life, Seaton Ben- 
nett, alone, came earlier and went later daily! 

For there were no buoys now marking out the safety 
channel of Madeleine Ware's voyage of life ! The daily 
dispatch of Hiram Bashford's accumulating mail, the 
detail of his current business, busied the modern Portia 
day by day. There were frequent affairs which called 
for hours of serious conference between the alert jun- 
ior partner and the beautiful neophyte! Gliding along 
— unmarking the growing intimacy — the woman never 
noted the flight of these many hours passed alone with 
the new-found companion of her professional life! Mr. 
Seaton Bennett himself now carried one of the keys to 
Hiram Bashford's offices — and his daily offering of ex- 
quisite flowers was the first thing which greeted the 
eyes that were slowly learning to "brighten when he 
came!" 

For, youth is only youth — and there are always sen- 
tinels who nod on post! The outside guard of Pru- 
dence often took a nap of forty winks in the glowing 
days of these summer months. Bennett had a rare 
diffident manner of flattering the lovely woman, with 
bringing to her all his own difficult problems. Led on 
by this insidious deference — she, too, began to lean 
upon the man who leaned upon her, and the two heads 
bent often very near together over "Mr. Bashford's 
business.'^ 



BOOK II.— One of Eve's Family. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE OLD, OLD STORY. 

Seaton Bennett, the hunter, warmed daily with the 
excitement of his hidden chase of the beautiful orphan, 
Whose heart was already in a state of siege, although 
she had not yet "manned its walls." For the insidious 
approach was through the avenue of the head, and 
Veiled by a community of tastes, and their joint labors. 
There was a thrill of conscious pride in the girl's bosom 
as Withers, the head clerk, silently submitted brief and 
paper, contract and pleading, for her revision. *'Mr. 
Bennett says that I am to let nothing of importance go 
out in his absence without submitting it to you!" was 
the explanation given by the chief of staff. The com- 
pliment burned in the tell-tale roses upon Madeleine's 
cheek, for the great waves of the world rolled over her 
unheeding, in her scholarly isolation. Withers' eyes 
once or twice sought Bennett's in a mute inquiry, as 
the acute clerk noted the growing length of the seances 
in Bashford's owi^ den ! "I must soon shift the scenes," 
mused Bennett. "This cat-like fellow is beginning to 
hark forward on the trail." Bennett had not known Mr. 
Withers' ways long enough to realize that he was keep- 
ing a Black Book on every one of the legal heavy bat- 
tery. He was, however, wise in his generation, this 
growing lawyer, the rising star of younger Tammany, 
the choice spirit, now fully initiated, of the Long 
Island Sporting Club. "I must throw the good Na- 
thaniel off the track," he mused, and to that end, vig- 
orously took up a volunteer examination of the case 



110 CHECKED THROUGH. 

of Estate of Ware vs. Shearer. Bennett was now fre- 
quent in inquiry as to Hiram Bashford's probable re- 
turn, for Withers always dispatched a weekly precis 
letter of the firm's affairs. "You see, Withers, that 
important case may come at any time after October 
first, and if Jarvis and Thorn want any help, I pre- 
sume that Miss Ware will go down there and coach 
them through." 

The head clerk never dreamed but that the chief had 
given detailed directions to Bennett in these matters. 
All seemed to favor the "creeping up" process of the 
impassioned hunter, who now thrilled to every turn of 
the chase and every movement of the beautiful quarry. 
But — delightful as was the growing intimacy — ^he 
would soon have no further excuse to submit his points 
and daily legal movements to the woman who drifted 
nearer to him with every day. "Blake and Bodley will 
be home in a few weeks," he mused one day. "I must 
change the scene of this little legal flirtation!" He felt 
assured that Madeleine had now made acquaintance 
with other women resident in the "model apartment 
house." "There is my vantage ground! To make my- 
self at home with any friends who know her there.*' 
He disliked, however, to give up this clandestine love- 
making in Hiram Bashford's own stronghold. It was 
deliciously exciting to use the chiefs own study for the 
battle ground of man against woman! For he was 
coldly jealous of Bashford's wealth and standing. He 
felt in his own heart that Bashford had desired her — 
had perhaps offered her a golden bribe — ^the bait for an 
immediate surrender. But the golden charm of luck 
was his own, and he moved now with the deliberation 
of a master of chess. "One single suspicion," he 
rightly conjectured, "and Portia would throw me over 
forever! I must bide my time, and — but one subject 
is tabooed between us! Love! That will be a little 
side incident! It will come — it will come!" he mur- 
mured, with parched lips, for he was swept away be- 
yond himself. A chance occurrence decided him to act 
at once. He overheard one of the argus-eyed t)rpe- 



CHECKED THROUGH. Ill 

writers distilling some finely dropped poisoned gossip 
to the elevator attendant. "What one can see, all can 
<ee!'' he ejaculated, in a sudden fear. And so he reso- 
lutely set about delving into the biographical and so- 
cial details of the dwellers in the "model apartment 
house." "Once that I am introduced under that roof 
as a general visitor, her suspicions will be allayed — once 
acknowledged as an 'ami de maison,' there will be no 
frightening my fair, fond dove!'' Bennett asked him- 
self a hundred times if the current of her blue veins was 
Erozen! "Can there be really a woman of this bizarre 
nould, in nervous New York?" he doubtfully mused- 
For among all those whom he had chased to bay in the 
jay city of Manhattan, there had not been a single "in- 
genue !" 

Seaton Bennett smiled in a devil's cool glow of tri- 
imph as he scanned the list of the "rentieres'' in the 
lodel caravansera. There was one name especially 
rhich thrilled him with joy. It was that of a bright, 
old woman free lance, a journalist, whom all men 
lared, and many used. A lonely, defiant nature whose 
thuriel spear pierced deeply into the adipose shield of 
le social pretender, the moral sham and the pious 
*aud! A whirl in Gotham's eddying life had once 
irown them together. And even now Seaton Bennett 
ras "bon camarade" with this feminine privateer press- 
ig on to unknown shores, with all sail set! 

"I think I will give the Walton a nice little private 
inner at the Brunswick!" he mused, for he knew that 
hat fearless dame would, over the second bottle, give 
lim, in her flushing Bohemian jargon, a graphic sketch 
>f the interior to which he proposed to now transfer the 
truggle which daily filled his mind and heart, con- 
ointly with the fierce secret campaign for standing in 
Tammany. "Yes! That^s the very thing !'* he glee- 
uUy said. "And if Minnie Walton still has her little 
bungalow' down at Mamaroneck — I may have two set 
icenes for this little play! A little bit of open air thea- 
cr might interest my coy Portia!" 

That "little dinner" was a social and g2LStTotvoTxv\c ^>\^- 



112 CHECKED THROUGH. 

cess! Never did Seaton Bennett pour out the half 
cynicism of his cultured mind in crisper and more au- 
dacious diamond showers of wit! A man who knew 
women well — ^the cold, self-reliant women of the hard 
world which shines and glitters in its adamantine ar- 
mor. Bennett brought in his real "motif with deli- 
cacy. But all in vain did he attempt to delude the 
argus-eyed Bohemienne. "You have some hidden 
scheme, my friend! Tell me a part of the truth — ^at any; 
rate as much as you can aflford to! Make as clean a- 
breast of it as the nature of your business will allow!* 
You are no Lovelace, my legal friend!" Bennett rang 
and ordered the third bottle of Pommery Sec. Before 
its creamy drops had vanished in the last draught, a 
loving cup pledge — Minnie Walton knew openly of 
Bennett's congressional aspirations. The trim, tidy, 
dangerously light-hued blonde fixed her cobalt eyes, 
keenly on him as he deftly unwound his braided tissue 
of lies. "This girl has a singular influence over Bash- j 
ford, and — ^the old chief runs the firm. Solid the^e,^^ 
my background is vastly improved in Tammany Hall!^ 
It is only natural as the three seniors are absent that I 
would not expose her to comment down there!" Min-' 
nie Walton laughed a ringing, defiant laugh. "You 
were not always such a stickler in the line of prudery, 
prunes and prisms!" She had an unexampled mem-, 
ory, and also some shreds of conscience. "When did 
you ever try to shield a woman?" "It suits me to 
shield this one !" moodily answered Bennett, who felt 
that the sharp journalist was now making game of him. 
"She is a noble woman!" "Right you are!'^ heartily 
cried the practical Walton. "And a good woman — 2l 
true woman ! See here, my friend, don't go in for any 
'light comedy' there ! She has all the native mould of 
a tragedy queen!" "Why! It would be simple ruin 
for me to trifle with her!" truthfully said Bennett 
"Can't you see that I only want to control Bashford 
through her? Her father was his Yale classmate, and 
she IS his Egeria! Why, his simple word of praise is 
my making! He could have the Senate at any time, or 






CHECKED THROUGH. 113 

.ven the bald honor of a life-long obscurity on the Su- 
preme Bench of the United States!" Minnie Walton was 
not altogether persuaded. "If I did not know you were 
possessed of a 'level head/ and a devouring ambition, 
I would not believe you; but it may be truel We will 
assume that you are really afraid to harm her! It 
would topple down your house of cards! All men, 
however, try to fool all women ! You are only herein 
claying the set game of your own delightful sex — ^but, 
ivith a wholesome awe! Now, my embryo Conkling, 
low about the financial part of your political edifice? 
[s it founded on a rock? Nothing for nothing in New 
ifork !^^ she laughed. "It takes money to buy honey !" 
'I can get the money — ^all I need — ^at the right time," 
confidently replied the man who always "got there." 
*My contract with this firm will see me well on my 
vay ! It IS an enormous practice, and — ^they are very 
iberal with me! I have really worked like a dog — and 
-his white-faced goddess is worth any two junior law- 
irers in New York! She presses 'on to the high mark 
Df her calling!''^ he unconsciously quoted. "And will, 
:o the bitter end!" honestly said the thirsty-looking 
Dlonde, who was "a power" in Newspaper Row. "She 
ivill not take the easy way!" mused Minnie Walton. 
*She will not stoop to conquer! If she falls, it will be 
Diily when trodden down under the rush ! The rush of 
this woman-devouring town ! For, hark you, my legal 
Friend, the streets of New York are paved with women's 
bones and cemented with their heart's blood! I see 
them standing on the river bank, these simple women, 
and see their votive lights go out, one by one ! But, as 
I am not afraid to trust her with you, I will do your bid- 
ding! But, I warn you! At the first sign of any ex- 
ercise of your 'peculiar genius,' I will turn on the search 
light, and then, you'll lose her forever!" "And since 
when have you posed as a protector of virtue, Min- 
nie?'' sneered Bennett. "Since I met Madeleine Ware, 
who is too good for the rest of us — ^too pure to fitly as- 
sociate with the swarming reptiles of business life — 
and whose proper place would be ruling a good tvva.w'% 



114 CHECKED THROUQH. 

happy home!" "You think that all women look to 
marriage?'' curiously demanded Bennett. "Yes!" de- 
cisively said the fair journalist "Unless unsexed by 
religious enthusiasm — or driven daft with sorrows — 
unless tied down by the burdens of self-denial — the one 
and final natural interest of woman's life is marriage! 
Whether achieved or missed — ^the destiny is of the 
higher law of nature, which sweeps all before it! De- 
lay, disappointment, adverse fate — all these but add to 
the force of the loosened flood when the barrier breaks!" 
"Why did you not follow out your rainbowed theory?" 
quickly retorted Bennett. The newspaper woman 
grimly said: "Because I once met a man with just as 
much heart as you!" Bennett did not blanch, but 
steadily said: "Then, the late Walton — " 

"Is a myth!" promptly responded Mrs. Minnie, "but 
I have cicatrized the scar, and I now take an indepen- 
dent hand in the game of 'catch as catch canP Only, 
I keep within the line!'' She bowed in mock humility, 
as, glaiicing at her jeweled watch, the gift of a railroad 
president, she said: "Now, you may take me home, 
sir! I don't bear malice, but mind your p's and q's 
when you come to our Temple of Virtue. We go in 
for *a blameless life' there !" 

Seaton Bennett was pleased — ^very well pleased — 
with the evening's campaign, as he finished the wee 
sma' hours at the club. Mrs. Minnie Walton had 
sketched the whole biography of the dwellers in the 
Adamless Eden, and besides promising to throw open 
her hospitable doors for a "conversazione," she had 
laid out certain little hospitable functions at the "bunga- 
low," the sweetest little "tigers' lair" in all Mamaroneck. 
"How can I ever repay^you?" the would-be statesman 
had murmured when she said: "You will meet at my 
'conversazione' all the dwellers within our gates. You 
can easily 'spot' your Portia's intimates, and then go 
on from this auspicious start!" 

Minnie Walton laughed her hard, worldly-wise ring- 
ing laugh as she dismissed him. "I will give you 
many opportunities to repay me! Now, such a little 



CHECKED THROUGH. 116 

er^ is perfection — and I will fine you several of 
1 for daring to worship other goddesses beside 
' "Man and money ready!" lightly said Bennett 
arting. "She is 'bon diable' after all/' he apostro- 
ed with great satisfaction. 

he summer days sped on to the last weeks of va- 
Dn! The social journals had already announced 
impending return of Madame Bodley from "Hom- 
ly^ and various other "burgs.'' The "High Joint" 
still dragging its serpentine course along with duly 
ctuated pauses for dinners of ceremony and other 
ial junketings. Bodley had flourished at the dip- 
atic headquarters in the low countries as a volun- 

aid of Hiram Bashford, while his haughty dame 
de broad the phylactery" and cut a wide swath in 

opposing femininity of the particular "effete 
larchy" we were wrestling with in our bloodless 
ion. Blake, laden with fish tails, or tales of fishes, 
now sadly counting the days on the upper McCloud 
re the Nez Perces had not scalped him, leaving 

cheerful task to the brave-hearted gallinippers of 
dusky mountain glens. "I have thrown all these 
dling devils off the track," gleefully ruminated 
on Bennett, who had dulled the eyes of the watch- 
Walton with several artfully chosen "wave and 
e offerings." The floral tributes which regularly 
htened the dusky interior of Bashford's den were 
:iously delivered now, at Miss Madeleine Ware's 
tment. The grave faces of Webster, Choate, Kent, 
y and Marshall looked down no more on the dew- 
med roses, the starry forget-me-nots, the fragrant 
its, or the lilies of the valley. Even Nathaniel 
[lers had ceased to spy upon Bennett, and the as- 

woman typewriter sadly confided to her own 
leo, the elevator engineer, that "the little business 

off for good." Bennett was overjoyed at heart. 
re was just the hovering suspicion of a treasured 
et knitting him in golden links to the beautiful 
:ia. The "conversazione" had truly been a "howling 
ess.'' Never was a more quaintly assorted menag- 



116 CHECKED THROUGH. 

erie gathered in the bright-eyed Freelance's rooms. 
There were so many little **quiet understandings" aris- 
ing from the convocation of "beauty and talent," that 
few cared to follow the springy steps of the alert young 
lawyer. There was no one to tell Madeleine Ware that 
a brie^ht flush of the sea shelPs pink now tinted her 
rounded cheek. Her mirror did not even flatter. In 
her eyes now shone the light of a new cheerfulness and 
she had learned at last to listen for Bennett's step upon 
the stair. It was with a rare delicacy that he refrained 
from forcing himself upon her tete-a-tete. There was 
always some one of the elastic circle in the "model 
apartment'' who strangely dropped in. The new friends 
had frequently wandered far away from the dry details 
of the law and their daily office intercourse had grown 
into a callous mechanical routine. But the spell of her 
brooding loneliness was broken at last. Single-hearted 
and chastened by a lonely youth, the now happy Mad- 
eleine was utterly unsuspicious of the warming feelings 
now growing in her heart. She had never even realized 
her solitude. And buoyed up also by her goading am- 
bition, she forgot that nothing is as lonely as an un- 
loved woman; that no fortress is as feebly guarded as 
a woman's vacant heart, untouched by love. Her 
womanly nature, rich and strong, had risen in a mute 
protest against Bashford's age. Though her fresh 
young bosom had never throbbed with love and pain 
of love, her wounded pride, her self-protective fear of 
taking alms at his generous hands, had left her in an 
absolute darkness as to the unconscious influence of 
her virginal beauty, her stately splendor of natural en- 
downment. But now, glowing in health, answering 
the mute appeal of Bennett's passion, burning in its 
hidden intensity, she leaned as willingly toward him, 
as the flower that loves the sun mutely follows the god 
of day. She noted not the growing chilliness of her 
routine reports to the absent chief. She looked not for- 
ward and she never gave a single glance behind. For 
in the long stolen days at Mamaroneck, when from 
Saturday morning to Monday noon she was the guest 



CHECKED THROUGH. 117 

of the brilliant woman journalist, she had timidly 
drawn aside the veil of her girlhood and, yielding to 
the growing charm, had told Seaton Bennett all the 
story of her life. How well he had learned all the les- 
sons of his warning social mentor, Mrs. Minnie Wal- 
ton, was shown in his care to avoid all public associa- 
tion with Madeleine. 

Coming late and going early, on trains unfrequented 
by others, the statesman in embryo "hedged" his wag- 
ers in life with care. But it was the one summer of her 
life to the orphaned girl. Driving on the cool shaded 
lanes, or seated where the blue Sound, flecked with sil- 
ver yacht sails, was spread out before her, she never 
thought of autumn's chilly blasts, of winter's coming 
drifted snows, in the brightness of these golden days. 
Bennett was a game sportsman and the moonlit waters 
of the Sound found them often in merry company 
skimming over the tranquil tide, where the outstretched 
white wings fanned them with the delicious coolness 
of night. The lonely woman's nature had blossomed 
out in a secret glow of self-giyen happiness. The glory 
of starlight and moonlight shone in her sparkling eyes. 
She went far afield with him to where the leafy brooks 
sang their drowsy lullabies to care. And so a peace 
svas in her unawakened heart, brooding in its happiness, 
and "beauty bom of murmuring sound" had passed 
into her face. There was no one to note this growing 
intimacy. The witchery of the summer was upon them 
ill. The city worn pilgrims who came to the Bungalow 
moved in the enchanted summer land as if they wan- 
iered in dreamland. And, there was none to warn or 
yuide the now defenseless woman. For she had laid 
lown the armor of distrust and now walked frankly 
land in hand with the one who joyed of her joys and 
sorrowed of her sorrows. Counselor Bennett never 
'ailed to enter into her dreams of the future with ten- 
ier sympathy. He fed the fires of her high ambition 
vith all the incense of his delicately-veiled flattery. He 
>eemed to her to be all that she fondly thought him 
n her self-constituted estimate of the man. Generous, 



118 CHECKED THROUGH. 

bright, brave, alert and energetic, he easily bore away 
the palm of social superiority in the narrowed limits 
of the scenes around her. Madeleine had always re- 
garded Blake and Bodley as hopelessly dwarfed by 
the great intellect of the absent chief. The underlings 
of the firm were her watchful hostile critics, her secret 
foes. She had soon learned the lesson of their secret 
aversion at her elevation to the rank of sole representa- 
tive of the great counselor, now far away over the sea. 
But, Seaton Bennett's delicate and thoughtful consider- 
ation made the way easily smooth for her. And the shy 
woman's very inmost soul now thrilled to his inspiring 
presence. It never occurred to her to look forward to 
the closing period of this intimacy, as their common 
interests had drawn them into a path which seemed to 
be unending. She had already confided to the man 
who had so lightened up her life every ambition of her 
heart. "To stand in the open, admitted as the peer of 
my brethren of the bar, to have a voice at court, to be 
capable of independent professional action, that is the 
crowning test, and I must reach that goal, else all this 
is lost. All my years of preparation." She never doubted 
his hearty sympathy, as his voice grew strangely soft- 
ened. "You shall have your heart's desire in all things." 
And then, into these last days came a fever of anxiety 
which drove Bennett into the stormiest moods of loos- 
ened passion, of biting desire. For the hunter had lin- 
gered too long by the side of the fair young quarry. 
He often paced his floor at night in a mad unrest. "This 
fool's Paradise of ours will soon be over," he groaned, 
as he checked each golden day off his mental calendar. 
He was without any present trick or subterfuge to 
craftily ensnare her. He greatly feared that keen-eyed 
woman cynic, Minnie Walton. He dared not at- 
tempt any flimsy trick of the seducer's art. Too well he 
knew the woman he sought was far above that. Mar- 
riage seemed to him to be impossible. It was truly the 
political gravestone of a poor and rising man. "If I do 
not bind her to me in some way before the return of 
my chiefs I will lose her forever. For Blake or Bod- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 119 

1 would not fail to send a secret report to Bashford. If 
ere were a secret to keep, though, she would keep 
' He feared to take action, for all his crafty ways 
th womankind, to essay any futile deception of the 
iter's art. Long nights of self commune only added 
the fires smouldering in his veins. For before that 
ire altar of inviolate youth he had paused, abashed, 
id yet driven on by a maddening passion. 
"If I told Bashford all frankly he might aid me. He 
as wax in her hands. I might marry her. He is rich, 
lildless, without anyone to inherit his great wealth 
id the vast practice." The dream tantalized him, but 
e meaner side of his nature triumphed. "Fool to think 
it," he bitterly cried. "Bashford loves her for him- 
If. He would only cast me out and then press him- 
If on her more vigorously.'' Counselor Bennett had 
) faith in the fabled magnanimity which would lead 
man to give the woman he adored over to the open 
ms of a younger lover. "No! No man would do that 
-no man could do that," he firmly decided. "And, 
-^en if he would, Blake and Bodley look upon this 
Jendid fabric of their years of toil as their own natural 
jritage. They would gladly drop me out. I would 
; at sea. I have thrown my javelin, and now I cannot 
5t it back. If Bashford gave her money, it would be 
irely tied up for her personal use. His death — ^that 
ay be a matter of many years. It would ruin my 
)litical career — ^a penniless marriage. By God, there 
a way. There shall be a way," he cried. "I will make 
le way. And I swear it, she shall never be another 
an's wife. She shall be mine alone. And I shall listen 
> her voice when she says, *I love you. I love only 
)ur" 

The surging passions of the night were not stilled 
ithin him as he found himself almost forced to bay, a 
eek before the reopening of the courts. He had not 
Ivanced a single step toward the establishment of that 
icret which was to make her his willing thrall, when 
I entered her private office rooms hastily on arriving 
half hour late. He had used the side door, of which 



120 CHECKED THROUGH. 

the key, Bashford's trust, had been so far his only bar- 
ren trophy. He sprang to the desk. There were the 
letters of an European mail scattered before the woman, 
whose beautiful head was now bowed upon her out- 
spread arms and her stormy sobs echoed quivering in 
his heart. There was the shelter of the g^eat tenant- 
less rooms hiding from all the orphan's sorrow. In an- 
other moment Madeleine Ware had a secret to hide for- 
ever from the man who hungered far away for one 
glance of her dear eyes, for the sight of the face of the 
one woman of the whole world; the one who had 
brought a brief sunshine into his barren and lonely life. 
Seaton Bennett's strong arms crushed her to his heart 
as he rained kisses upon her pallid lips. His voice 
quivered with all the pent-up passions tearing his soul 
in the long maddening months of waiting. And there 
was no longer anything to dissemble when he had mur- 
mured twenty times, "Madeleine! My own Made- 
leine ! I love you ! Tell me all your sorrows." 

No one in the office knew of the flitting of the pale- 
faced woman who quickly fled away as if pursued by 
the avenger of blood. The great, gloomy offices of 
Hiram Bashford were locked for many days, and on' 
the morning of Miss Ware's disappearance the wonder- 
ing Mr. Nathaniel Withers easily decided, "Bennett 
is certainly out of this mystery, for he came an hour 
late." The only sign vouchsafed to the overcurious 
head clerk before the opportune arrival of Messrs. 
Blake and Bodley was a note directing the immediate 
forwarding of all papers and letters at once to Miss 
Ware's apartment. 

When the returning chiefs, Blake and Bodley, ques- 
tioned Seaton Bennett he gravely said "I have not seen 
Miss Ware for a number of days. She is unfortunately 
ill, and I have been deprived of her most valuable as- 
sistance in getting up our new trial calendars." 

In which Mr. Seaton Bennett deliberately lied, for he 
was now secretly master of the situation. The golden 
key had turned at last in the door of Madeleine Ware's 
heart and there was a secret to keep. For she had 



CHECKED THROUGH. X21 

given Bennett the right to repeat to her alone the 
strange, sweet story which her heart found a wondrous 
new revelation, "The old, old story.'' And she knew 
at last that he loved her, that he had loved her from 
the first, and her eyes had thrilled him in a love's match- 
less triumph as with her head upon his breast she had 
murmured, while the roses deepened on her cheeks, 
"Seaton, I love you, I love you, as you love me." When 
the statesman of the future cruelly lied to the two 
anxious lawyers his crafty heart told him that he was 
safe. "Madeleine is loyal to the death," he exulted. 
"She will guard the secret with her life." And he then 
thought of Hiram Bashford far away, with the fierce 
resentment of a victor upon even terms. "Damn his 
lordship's airs. I would like him now to see her head 
on my bosom. I have won the prize that he would have 
had his own." But in no period of his remarkably suc- 
cessful career was Counselor Seaton Bennett as agile in 
his duties, as calmly unconcerned in his daily de- 
meanor, as when he hugged to his soul the cowardly 
triumph of his studied meanness. "She is mine at last, 
for ^he dare not tell the story of our summer life." And 
he heedlessly forgot in his joy, standing on the thres- 
hold of his opening political career, the sage injunc- 
tions of his practical friend Minnie Walton. 

A strange viewless demon of good luck seemed to 
walk at the side of that rising luminary, Mr. Seaton 
Bennett. For the return of Bodley had relieved him of 
any detailed connection with the interests of the ab- 
sent chief, whose "High Joint" already projected itself 
for six long months more of easy conference and 
gastronomic rumination at Brussels. Two days after 
the return of Counselor Bodley he called Bennett to 
him with an anxious face. "Here, I am desperately 
bothered, Seaton," said the genial Bodley. "Bashford 
cables me to send one of our firm down to join Jarvis 
and Thorn in pressing that Delaware suit against that 
brute, Shearer. They are now forcing the trial on. 
Bashford's absence is a godsend to the defendant. 
Now, Blake and myself have our hands full. We can 



122 CHECKED THROUGH. 

get along with Withers here. You had better go up 
and see Miss Ware, get all the papers and then take a 
run down to New Castle. Stay there and help Jarvis to 
get a judgment against that sneaking scoundrel If 
you say yes, I cable to Bashford, and I know that he 
will feel his interests safe in your hands.'* 

Bennett bowed, accepting the compliment in silence: 

"All right," cheerily cried the relieved senior. "FU 
cable to Hiram. Give them a good twist down there, 
and telegraph to me for any money or other help you 
may need. Can you go to-day? I will send a dispatch 
to Jarvis." And so it fell out that Seaton Bennett's heart 
was light as he left the office, for Bodley's last remark 
was, "I have telegraphed to Mrs. Bradford, the old 
housekeeper, to come over here and take Miss Ware 
down later. She is our only witness, and she will make 
her headquarters at the Hall. Jarvis will put you uft 
with his own family." 

Bennett's mind was in a whirl as he dashed away up- 
town. "There's one thing certain," he mused. "This 
quest will cover and explain any apparent intimacy of 
the coming months." A victor enforcing the acknowl- 
edgment of a suddenly awakened love from the woman 
he had stalked in secret, the harvest was yet to reap. 
But he already dreamed of the fair woman wandering 
in her lovely bowers by the Delaware with the sun- 
shine of a new passion, the magic of first love shining 
in her face. 

Seated alone in her darkened rooms Madeleine Ware 
awaited his coming with a wildly throbbing heart 
Her lover never knew the sacred contents of the two 
letters which had aroused the storm of feeling that had 
left her helpless in Bennett's hands. For with a guilty 
self-accusation which she did not altogether under- 
stand, she had destroyed every vestige of Hiram Bash- 
ford's last pleading appeal and of Mrs. Florence Ren- 
wick's burning words, the words which had rent her 
heart. The great lawyer, his country's representative, 
was chafing sorely under the enforced delay of months. 
His lonely heart sought out Madeleine, turning toward 



CHECKED THROUGH. 123 

her there, fighting the world alone, as the needle 
swings to the Pole. Bashford only feared that some per- 
sonal clumsiness had ruined his influence over the 
woman he adored. His great heart was still shaken in 
a vague unrest and forebodings of the very worst came 
to unman him with their gloomy shadows. "Alone in 
a great city, my poor, blind darling," he murmured, as 
he went away to seek counsel of Flossie Renwick and 
her keen-witted spouse. It had been very easy for the 
little Pennsylvanian princess to see the gaping wound 
in Bashford's heart. Her pen flew nervously over the 
paper as she indited her first and last appeal to Mad- 
eleine Ware — an appeal to love, tenderness and grati- 
tude. 

"Do you not see, darling," she wrote, "that Bashford 
has given you all the loyal support of his wisdom, as 
well as the indulgent tenderness of his great heart? 
He has opened your practical career to you. He has 
saved your dear old home from the stranger — he is 
now championing you against that villain, Shearer. 
And whatever cloud has come between you, you have 
simply broken his heart. He has begged you to 
pause a season in the mad onward race which is wreck- 
ing your health and burning your mind out in a fever. 
It is not by a wild escalade — a frenzied dash — ^that you 
will conquer and win a lasting fame. I can only see in 
my newer life, at a distance, that you have denied him 
all; that he mistakes your proud independence for 
aversion and that you will only wreck your life and 
embitter his. He has told me all, and he asks nothing 
but that you will not make your ambition the goad to 
drive you to some future despair. I bum to be with 
you, and I implore you to go to Ware Hall and await 
his return. You may not see, but we do, that without 
Hiram Bashford's helping hand you could not remain 
a single month in your anomalous social situation." 
Her last clause had opened the door to a terrible 
temptation. "I am no prophet, nor the daughter of 
a prophet, but I can see, in my own life, the strangely 
changed feelings of a woman who loves aud \^ b^- 



124 CHECKED THROUGH. 

loved. The power of love is beyond all the sneers of 
the social agnostic. If you will devote yourself to the 
law, you should marry some man of kindred pursuits 
and follow on the career jointly with him. For every 
woman's nature is two-sided, and heart and soul de- 
mand the satisfaction of nature, as well as the shadowy 
triumph of ambition. Love will wreck you yet, if you 
do not remember that you are, after all, only a woman." 

The modern Portia had torn that letter to fragments. 
Its words were without seeming weight, but she was 
simply bewildered. Day by day in this one summer, 
she had left the gates ajar and it was Seaton Bennett's 
passion which overpowered her in her one hour of 
weakness. She found herself now trembling in the 
throes of a new emotion, and she dared not ask herself 
how far she now ruled her own future. For she knew 
that she had g^ven herself up to his guidance without 
reservation. And she had been surprised into the 
admission of a love whose tide had silently risen around 
her, with her eyes fixed afar upon other things. "I 
must conceal this from Bashford, from Flossie," she 
instinctively cried, and the merest ray of light in her 
troubled heart would have shown her the duty not to 
linger longer in a situation rapidly becoming a false 
one. 

And so, she was left as wax in her lover's hands. 
When he came, his eyes burning with a secret triumph, 
she bowed her head humbly as he said, "We must 
keep our secret from all. We will arrange our whole 
plan of action at New Castle. For I must not lose my 
hard-earned standing here. You must not be com- 
promised. I think I see the way, in a year, to take you 
out into the Golden West, where we can move upward, 
hand in hand.'' And with her lover at her side, tiie fair 
woman never dreamed that she had thrown away the 
empire of her own future, that she already wore the 
links which bind, golden links, yet a chain, and that the 
scepter of her soul had passed into the hands of an- 
other. For she was only one of Eve's family, and love 
had stolen upon her like a thief in the night. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 125 

Seaton Bennett was overjoyed at his easy mastery of 
he Delaware beauty. As he stepped upon the ferry 
)oat to take the train he was startled at a telegram from 
lis secret political agent, the great Doolan. 

"A big deal for you in sight. See me as soon as 
roxi can. Most important.'' 

The departing lawyer could only telegraph: 

"Called away for three weeks ; will write. Come at 
mce to you on my return. Address New Castle, Dela- 
vare.'' 

"It seems everything is going my way," he cheerfully 
reflected, as the boat neared Hoboken. "But what 
the devil can I do with Madeleine for this next year?'' 
Fhe words of Red Mike had recalled to him the one am- 
bition of his life — ^the oath to himself to ride into Con- 
gress on the back of the Tiger. And once again, he 
swore to himself that he would "get there." And for 
the moment he forgot the beautiful woman whom he 
had left behind him, sobbing alone, the loving one who 
feared to ask herself if it was joy or sorrow that ruled 
her strangely discovered heart. For Madeleine Ware 
now felt the thrill of love, and she could not answer 
whither the future would lead her. Perhaps she would 
wander away, far away, in new scenes, among stranger 
faces, but Love had entangled her in the meshes of his 
net, and she fondly whispered, "He will be at my side. 
He is so noble, so tender, so true." 

The crisis of his life found Seaton Bennett strangely 
unprepared for independent action. He had only a day 
to take a furtive look at the departed glories of Ware 
Hall. For the trial was coming on, and a keen pro- 
fessional pride urged him to do his best to bring Robert 
Shearer to bay. Already Mrs. Bradford was on her way 
to escort the orphaned girl to face her plunderer in open 
court Counselor Jarvis marveled at the feverish 
energy with which Bennett plunged into the details of 
the cause celebre. "We shall beat them," Jarvis wrote 
to the anxious Bodley, "for Bennett is really a wonder. 
He already has every thread of the case picked up and 
knotted.*^ 



126 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Neither of the seniors knew the cool weighing of pos- 
sibilities going on in the young advocate's mind 
"There's over a hundred thousand dollars in this case. 
If we win, I might afford to marry Madeleine. This 
money backing would certainly make my election sure, 
and also back me through a couple of terms at Wash- 
ington. After that, I will be well on my feet" Bennett 
had the leisure to think the whole situation over and 
he was goaded on to action by the significant scrawl 
of Red Mike, which followed him to the banks of the 
Delaware. 

"What I've to say is not for pen and ink, and it will 
keep for your return. Come to me as soon as ye can, 
for the door stands open for ye to go in next year." 

"I wonder what his plan can be?" mused the young 
legal champion, as he fretted at the railway station 
awaiting the arrival of Miss Madeleine Ware. But all 
the air castles of congressional model vanished as he 
sprang to meet the beautiful woman who turned to him 
on the eve of the battle for her rights. The light in her 
eyes shone for him alone, and he saw, too, in her proud 
self-possession that their secret was safe. "Bashford 
can never break down her serene and steadfast calm. 
I can do what I wish to with her," he gloated, "for she 
believes in me." With knightly courtesy Bennett es- 
corted Madeleine to the door of her old home. He 
would not even enter. "The trial is on to-morrow," he 
said, "and Jarvis depends entirely on me." The inti- 
macy of the summer had given Bennett a wonderful 
familiarity with the whole intrigue of the Kaolin Com- 
pany, for Madeleine had supplied the gaps where Jar- 
vis had harked back on the winding way of the false 
friend. The lover's voice thrilled in all the intensity of 
a restrained passion as he whispered, "Here, here, I 
can tell you all our future, here in the shadow of your 
old home, but only after we have beaten this robber." 

The days of the drawn-out trial only brought the two 
secret lovers nearer together. There was pride and love 
mingled in the rapture which filled Madeleine Ware's 
soul as she saw her old enemy humbled, brought to his 






X CHECKED THROUGH. 127 

cnees and disgraced before all men by the merciless 
ross-examination of her champion. The country side 
lad flocked to hear the final arguments, and under the 
iyes of the woman he loved Seaton Bennett touched the 
rery highest point of his forensic powers. He battled for 
he fortune, which could send him to Congress, under 
:he eyes of the awakened beauty whose eyes followed 
nim in speechless tenderness as his voice rose and fell 
n the sweep of his splendid eloquence. "A masterly ef- 
:ort," cried the delighted Jarvis, as Seaton Bennett con- 
cluded, and the murmur of the assembled bar confirmed 
that verdict. Bennett laughingly waved away the dozen 
outstretched hands and strode to where the veiled 
beauty sat, thrilling in ecstasy to see her lover, strong, 
peerless, triumphant. 

"I have done my very best for you," he simply said, 
as her eyes shone on him with a strange liquid light. 
*'My own darling,'' was the whisper which reached his 
ears alone, as her little hand trembled in his grasp. 
Three days later Seaton Bennett paced his room in 
deep thought, long after the happy circle at Squire 
Jarvis' fireside had broken up. A congratulatory cable- 
gram lay open on the table, with several similar tele- 
grams from New York. The press had characterized 
his conduct of the case as "magnificent," and Blake and 
Bodley supplemented Hiram Bashford's message from 
over the sea. 

*T can walk alone now, gentlemen. I do not need 
either cane or crutch," he cried, apostrophizing the ab- 
sent And a definite plan matured itself in his mind. It 
had been to him a subtle stimulus giving light to his 
brain and pointing his words with flame. The near- 
ness of that beautiful woman to whose every motion 
his body moved in unconscious sympathy. The pent- 
up passion of his ardent nature was a maddening in- 
toxication and he moved as in a dream. For, in her 
gracious self-surrender, Madeleine Ware leaned upon 
him now in a proud humility. She was the cold and 
haughty Minerva no longer, but only a Venus, clinging, 
glowing, rapturous and tender and loving — her whole 



128 CHECKED THROUGH. 

nature revealed itself in adoring the man whom she 
had set up as the god of her fresh young life. No coM 
theory seemed to stand between them now. No ab- 
stract propositions of woman's place in life, her am- 
bitions lay dormant, for she had crowned him her 
king of men, and at his side she only sighed to rule 
over his heart in the gentle submission of his love. 
This was the woman lawyer's self-elected fate. 

It was a time of roses for them both, and the beautiful 
gardens of the old manor wooed them now to the re- 
tirement where the fragrant flowers nodded their wel- 
come home to the orphan. These were the golden, 
happy days, these days of first love. For she shyly 
told him all, and he learned all the depths of her tender- 
ness from her lips, crimson with the glowing flush of 
love. Bennett, too, had been swept away from all the 
anchored prudence of his own egoistic code. When he 
murmured to her, "Darling, trust me all in all. You 
must be mine, and only as my wife can you rightly 
guard our double secret Then, in a year, I will 
lead you out of the peopled wilderness of New 
York to our own home in the bright West, but 
we will come back here one day and you shall 
reign again queen of the old manor. For, together, 
nothing will be denied to us." The ardent lover had 
conned every chance entering into the game of 
cross purposes. "Bashford may even give her this 
place," he mused. "He may not, but if I am two ses- 
sions in Congress, the way to it will be easy. At any 
rate, this hundred thousand dollars and more will be 
surely hers and it will be my financial salvation. I can 
afford to risk it." He tried to weigh every single ob- 
jection with a due sense of his enhanced professional 
valuation, but the tide of restrained passion swept all 
these trifling barriers away. "I will not lose her," he 
cried, and then the way seemed clear enough. 

There was a period of enforced delay until the judg- 
ment could be entered and the records of the «tse made 
up. The delighted Jarvis believed Mr. Seaton Bennett 
to have departed for a little run to New York in the 



CHECKED THROUGH. 129 

interval, for the judgment proceedings would occupy 
a week or more. Messrs. Blake and Bodley forwarded 
Seaton Bennett's mail as directed "to Washington," 
and yet, the few days of the young champion's absence 
from New Castle were spent at Camden, New Jersey. 
It was for but a few brief hours that Miss Madeleine 
Ware tarried at that uninteresting town, when Mrs. 
Bradford had seen her depart to spend a short time at 
Wilmington "upon some legal business." It was a 
very matter of fact country justice of the peace who 
married the noble looking lovers who sought his of- 
ficial aid at the little country hamlet of Magnolia. 

Madeleine Ware was musing in a dream as she sat 
gazing out of the windows of a quaint country inn, 
where the one set of best parlors wooed her in vain 
with their faded colonial furnishings. She had not 
been proof against the vehement pleadings of the 
man who had carried her cause on to victory. 

She was now a wife. It seemed as if the current of 
her life was swiftly bounding on between unknown 
banks and there were "no lights to guide." "It is the 
only honorable way for us to carry this secret, my dar- 
ling," Bennett had urged. "Think of your own deli- 
cate position as regards Hiram Bashford and my obli- 
gations to all these gentlemen, my rich partners." 
And so she had yielded to this marriage, which seemed 
even to her, to be unduly shadowed in mystery. While 
she waited, with a beating heart, for the return of her 
husband, the groom had quickly returned to the anx- 
ious village magistrate. The liberal fee which aston- 
ished the sleepy "squire" was accompanied with a slip 
bearing the names of "Seaford Benton" and "Margaret 
Wall." The entries were duly made, and the bride- 
groom eagerly retraced his steps. "No one can ferret 
out our little marriage masquerade," he mused, "and 
it gives me a little command of the situation." 

"The voice that breathed o'er Eden" was no sweeter 
than the spell of Love's dream which wrapped the 
happy wife in its iris folds, and not a shade was on her 
fair brow as she went back alone to the old Hall, whos>e 



130 CHECKED THROUGH. 

every shadow seemed to cling to her in a tntite benedic- 
tion as she dwelt in the present which was so passing 
fair. Seaton Bennett's open return to New Castle two 
days later was only after a day spent in wandering hand 
in hand with the enraptured Portia through the scenes 
of her girlhood. 

"I miss nothing of the old grandeur, Seaton," the 
happy woman whispered, "for all the world is my 
home, while you are by my side." 

And the man, though devoured by his ambitions, 
was so swayed by the sweetness of the love which had 
flashed its golden light into his dark heart, that he now 
believed himself to be true. And in this loving, happy 
dream, they parted, only to meet again in the hidden 
mystery of their now sacred secret. 

Seaton Bennett followed Counselor Jarvis listlessly 
into his private study when the old practitioner had 
found time to capture the returning lion of the hour. 
"I have a very unwelcome disclosure to make to you, 
Mr. Bennett," said the old lawyer, as he settled himself 
gravely. They were now shut ofl from all possible in- 
terruption. "It will make no difference to you, for this 
case is the crowning honor of your life. It is the mak- 
ing of your future. But, I cannot find the heart to 
send the news to Bashford, for it will pain and enrage 
him beyond measure." 

"What's wrong?" cried Bennett, with a sudden ac- 
cess of gloomy misgivings. "Speak out, man. I am 
no baby." His voice had a strangely harsh ring, as he 
gripped a ruler in his nervous hands. 

"I am sorry to say," timidly said Jarvis, "that Robert 
Shearer was quietly married to the only daughter of 
the president of the bank in Maryland a few months 
ago, and I have learned that all of Shearer's bank stock 
was transferred some time ago to that gentleman *for 
a valuable consideration.' The couple came back in 
your absence and have secretly departed for a year's 
travel in Europe." 

Seaton Bennett sprang to his feet, with blazing eyes,. 
as he cast away the fragments of the ruler, which had 



CHECKED THROUGH. 131 

snapped in his hands. "The damned scoundrel!" he 
yelled. "Then, Miss Ware's judgment is not worth the 
paper it is written on." 

"I am afraid so," sadly said Jarvis., "for Shearer has 
resigned his place in the bank. Of course, the father- 
in-law will screen him, and Shearer has so saved one 
fortune and gained another. I am sorry for Miss Ware, 
as it leaves her practically penniless. I know that she 
counted upon this. I dare not break this bad news to 
her. You must." The old man sank back exhausted. 

"I'll do nothing of the kind," sternly said Bennett, 
glancing at his watch. "I have a half hour to catch the 
train. I will go to New York and see what I can do 
to stop this infernal robbery. Do you drive down and 
tell this to Miss Ware. It is your place, not mine," and 
Bennett traced a few lines with flying fingers. "There, 
give her that. It will explain my absence. I would 
not have her think that I have deserted her. But I 
must see Bodley, and see him at once." 

Before the old lawyer's phaeton had drawn up at 
Ware Hall, Seaton Bennett was twenty-five miles away 
on his voyage to New York. The glow of proud hap- 
piness had vanished from his heart and his brow was 
black as he cast up his mental reckoning in a secluded 
corner of the car. "I have made a fool of myself," he 
grimly said. "This girl is now tied to me for life, and a 
pauper. For old Bashford will roar like a bull of 
Bashan when he discovers our marriage. And the 
cast-off lover will never give her a cent now." He 
glared back at the Delaware. "It's all gone — the Hall, 
the money, and — my seat in Congress." A sudden 
thought recalled him. "I'll see *Red Mike' at once. 
Perhaps I can win Madeleine over to have the Chief 
back my congressional campaign. For I have bound 
myself hand and foot. I was a fool, a fool," he reit- 
erated. "I'll let Bodley run this farce down here now, 
and he can send the news himself." 

Seaton Bennett, the bridegroom of a few stolen days 
of secret commune, never gave a thought to the woman 
who sat bowed and stunned before the blow de^lt v\ 



132 CHECKED THROUGH. ^ 

his usual gentleness of manner by the old lawyer who 
was the messenger of sad tidings. ^Toor Seaton/' she 
gasped, and she was sadly fearful of the throbbing 
of her loving heart. "It will be a terrible blow to our 
future. It promised so fair. It promised so fair." She 
did not hear the grave outpourings of the old coun- 
selor, who vainly strove to reillumine her hopes. For 
the words of her husband's brief letter had cut her to 
the heart. The first shadow on the glass. "I am called to 
New York. Jarvis will tell you all,'' he curtly wrote. 
"You had better come on at once and see Bodley. I 
shall not come back. Meet you there as usual. Safer 
to burn this." Her eyes were filled with tears as she 
noted the single initial "S." 

There was not a word of tenderness, not a single 
veiled touch recalling the love which had thrilled their 
two hearts, now joined forever in the solemn bond of 
life and love. "Poor Seaton," she whispered, and with 
a new dignity of sorrow she committed the first missive 
from the man to whom she had given her last sigh of 
love, to the red flames, which licked the frail paper 
into a shriveling mass of ashes. "It is too hard, too 
bitter to bear," she cried, and when she turned away in 
the old Hall, shadowed by the sorrows of the past, she 
sought the room of her happy girlhood in a sorrow 
which no one dared to break in upon. 

All the way homeward the old lawyer was wrapped 
in a mantle of gloom. "Bennett seemed almost beside 
himself. It is a rascally piece of business. And yet it 
is really nothing to him. Poor Madeleine," he mur- 
mured. And he vowed in his fatherly heart to write 
to Hiram Bashford and appeal to his golden heart. 
"That girl must not suffer. She looked as if she had 
death in her face.*' 

The excited knots of men gathered in New Castle 
would have fain mobbed the absent bridegroom who 
had fled away, like a thief in the night, but the smug 
Shearer was far away, laughing at pursuit, for his con- 
duct had been based upon "legal lines" carefully drawn. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 18S 

He knew well that "there is one law for the rich and 
another for the poor," even in the land of freedom. 

Late that night, another bridegroom entered the 
"palatial establishment'' of the renowned Doolan at 
Long Island City. Bennett had tersely recounted all 
to Bodley and vigorously "washed his hands of the 
whole affair." The unwelcome news was following 
Shearer toward Europe, to be flashed there before him. 

"Now, don't fool with me," cried Seaton Bennett, 
when Red Mike had led him into the remotest sanc- 
tum of his gin palace. "What's your scheme? Out 
with it. I am hungry and tired, and I've come from 
Delaware to hear you." There was the unaccustomed 
flush of brandy on the hard, bright, defiant face. 

"Well, my boy," jovially said Doolan, "I have fixed 
it all for your nomination next summer. There's big 
money needed. I know ye haven't got it. But, I can 
get it for ye. It's for yourself to say the word." The 
great manipulator was big with his secret. "I want 
some of the money. There's nearly a million of it." 

"But how can I get it?" growled Bennett, with a 
growing irritation. 

"Why, marry it," guffawed Doolan, and, unmindful 
of the sudden pallor on Seaton Bennett's face, he ran 
on with glibness. "She was a mere girl when she mar- 
ried one of the Tweed contractors, and she's a beauty 
now, and not far from your own age. She has a great 
desire to be a queen of Tammany, on the inside." He 
whispered a word or two which left Seaton Bennett 
white and trembling. "She will meet you half way, 
an ye're a made man for life. They have spoken 
of you to her, and this grand trial has made yer for- 
tune. She has the money and she dearly wants to get 
into Washington society. There was mountains of 
money made in the Park jobbing and the City Hall, 
and it's there for you, with a fine woman to back it, and 
to open the door of Congress for you. I'll navigate 
the thing to success, but I want fifty thousand the day 
ye^re elected. It's the one chance of a lifetime.'* 
'Tret me — ^let me think it over,** muttered Seatoti Ben- 



184 CHECKED THROUGH. 



I 

at 



D1 

1 



nett, as he staggered out into the obscurity of the night 
The darkness of the streets was its friendly curtain. 
For his tell-tale face might have betrayed him. It was 
a maddening juncture. 

"I have been a fool, a damned fool, and ruined my- 
self forever," he faltered as he strode along unheeding. 
"Why did I not come over and see this smart fellow 
when he bade me? It is now too late." And as he 
wandered along, a busy devil at his side whispered in 
the dark, "Not too late, not too late. I know a way." 
The damp of night was chill on his brow when he 
strode back and joined his anxious go-between. "Tell 
me all," he cried, with forced gaiety. "We will see 
what we can do. I was quite worn out with that trial. 
I'm feeling better now." t 

"Ye'U be right in a jifly," said the overjoyed Doolan, i 
as he rang for a bottle of Pommery. "We'll drink the 
health of the bride to be." And the devil danced in 
Seaton Bennett's heart, as the wine gave the tempted 
man a false courage. 

Far away that night Madeleine Bennett had sobbed 
herself to sleep and was happy at last in dreaming 
now that they were wandering together in their fool's 
Paradise of a day. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE YOKE OF TABiMANY. 

Counselor Bodley was greatly astounded at the 
reserve manifested by the brilliant junior as to the de- 
feat of the money recovery in Delaware by Robert 
Shearer's cowardly evasion. Bennett had quietly 
dropped into the office business with his accustomed 
energy and simply replied "What can I do? I won 
your law case for you, but this sneak has baffled us at 
the last'' 



CHECKED THROUGH. 135 

Bodley himself was sorely bothered now, for he was 
the recipient of several cablegrams which indicated 
the rage and disappointment of Hiram Bashford. 
"Where is Miss Ware?" anxiously demanded Bodley 
a week after Bennett's return. "I have a cablegram 
for her, and Jarvis telegraphs to me that she left New 
Castle shortly after you did." 

"Better wire to Atwater, Mrs. Renwick's brother," 
said Bennett, in some little sudden confusion. "I be- 
lieve that she thought of visiting Mrs. Hugh for a few 
days." 

It proved so to be, and Seaton Bennett felt very safe 
in his well judged precaution that no letters should be 
interchanged between them. "It is hard, my darling," 
ne had gravely said, "but it is our only salvation. Let- 
ters, always letters, give away the dread secrets of life, 
the fatal over-confidence of lovers leads them on to 
their final destruction. When you come back, I must 
be more than circumspect until we have passed the 
argus eyes of Bashford on his return. After that a 
growing general intimacy can then lead us up to the 
happy day when I shall take you away forever out of 
their den." 

And so in the Pennsylvanian hills, Madeleine Ben- 
nett received the indignant outpouring of the absent 
chiefs heart. The last touch of misfortune had soft- 
ened his rugged heart. He wrote with friendly ve- 
hemence. "I am coming home, Madeleine, to be 
again your protector of old. I can be a father to you 
now, and, my dear child, you must not hold me at 
arms' length. For I shall find out some way to con- 
tribute to your happiness, and I must be allowed to 
make this loss up to you. If the world misunderstands 
me, certainly you will not. And, as for the Hall, I 
shall leave it to you, in your own name. Now, I shall 
not see you till Florence Renwick has been with you, 
and I beg you to let her be my ambassadress. This 
will be our Kttle secret, known only by our little trin- 
ity." 

"How he loves me. How he has loved me,'* mused 



136 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Madeleine Bennett, and, with a sudden alarm, she saw 
that the control of her life had drifted away from her. 
For she had even now a secret from the chosen hus- 
band of her heart, as well as one to hide from Florence 
and the great counselor. Madeleine Bennett gazed 
at her ringless wedding finger, and those "maimed 
rites" of her marriage returned to vex and annoy her. 
For the coarse functionary had not even wished her 
Godspeed and not a woman stood by her in the touch- 
ing moment when she had linked herself forever to the 
aspiring, audacious lawyer. And so in her wistful 
eyes there was the shadow already of a coming grief. 
Her fine, noble soul spurned all concealment and 
double dealing. Hand in hand, she would have gone out 
openly with him, penniless, to face the world and to 
honor him above all men. In vain Hugh Atwater and 
his cheery wife sought to lift her up into the happy 
present, for they feared now that she was only walking 
with the shadows and sorrows of the past. It seemed 
as if there was a sad relief when she once more sought 
the great city, an unacknowledged wife, to be again "a 
stranger within its gates." 

Seaton Bennett, too, had been mindful of the de- 
pressing effect of the enforced separation upon the 
woman he had hurried into matrimony, and while he 
dared not go to receive her openly, he had made her 
rooms a bower of floral loveliness. There was all the 
tenderness in their meeting which the dangers lurking 
around them would permit. Seaton Bennett was a 
marvelous actor in a social drama, whose rapidly thick- 
ening plot now embraced many collateral characters 
and another leading lady. He had neatly arranged to 
be absent on the first day of Miss Ware's reappear- 
ance at the office. "Bodley can exhaust the subject 
of Robert Shearer's Fabian victory, and I will not be 
exposed to the prying eyes of the office force." He had 
so reasoned, and rightly. Moreover, he limited his 
stay with the lonely wife on the evening of her return 
to the usual "visite de ceremonie," and even that was 
broken in upon by several "guardian angels" of the 



CHECKED THROUGH. 187 

"model apartment," including the sagacious Mrs. Min- 
nie Walton. But the dignified bearing of the two 
principals in the secret marriage was an armor of proof 
to these curious eyes. The sequel to the "cause celebre'' 
was a matter of public news and the journalists of sev- 
eral states had "scorched" that recreant friend and lag- 
gard bridegroom, Shearer. He was safe now in far 
lands, however. 

Seaton Bennett gave to the ostensible Miss Ware at 
parting a little folded slip of paper with an address 
card. "Call in at Benedicts, on your way to the office 
to-morrow," he whispered. It was after a night of con- 
flicting emotions that the pale-faced bride sought the 
legal fortress which she had left as a free woman in the 
high hopes of triumph. She had returned in a real de- 
feat to be now the guardian of a double secret, an un- 
recognized wife, and her voice trembled as she was 
made the target of the noisy sympathy of the fussy 
Bodley. 

She soon sat alone in her haven of refuge — that re- 
treat designed by the absent chief, to be proof against 
all the wiles of her foes, and her eyes roved hopelessly " 
around the embattled books. The woman's heart was 
as lead within her. Her brilliant husband was absent, 
but at her desk she recalled with a sinking heart the 
hasty wooing which had made her another woman. It 
now seemed like the "baseless fabric of a dream." 

But it was all too true. And, after escaping from a 
conference over Bashford's voluminous instructions to 
Bodley, she sat there still gloved and with her face 
covered by the friendly shadows of her veil. She had 
no heart for her work. True, on the finger of her left 
hand where a wedding ring should have gleamed, there 
sparkled a magnificent square sapphire, with two 
superb old Indian diamonds of the same peculiar cut- 
ting. It was the substitute for that plain golden band 
which Seaton Bennett should have placed there on 
the day of their obscure wedding. And yet she felt a 
cowardly shrinking at the heart when she reflected that 
she dared not remove her glove lest some otve. ol l\v^ 



138 CHECKED THROUGH. 

fifty pairs of prying eyes should query, **Whose 
token?" 

And every moment the clock ticking away told her 
now that the current of the life blood had taken a new 
direction. She could not analyze her feelings, but she 
felt that she was Madeleine Ware no longer. The high- 
spirited modem Portia was as meek as her prototype 
of the play, when Bassanio, in choosing the leaden 
casket, leaped at once to the mastery of the woman 
decreed by fate to be his very own. She trifled at her 
desk for an hour and then left the office, knowing that 
the spirit which had led her on alone to brave lonely toil 
and mental fatigue was broken forever. There was a 
hidden fever in her blood throbbing, "No otfier will 
but his." Ah, beautiful, trusting neophyte! She pas- 
sively resigned herself to bonds which she had riveted 
upon her own helpless hands and iron bands which 
cramped the noble, womanly heart. One frightened 
glance into her dark future told her that she must per- 
force go on and lead the double life. For to justify 
herself in any apparent false position would be but to 
betray the man whom she loved with all the intensity of 
her true heart. Even the stimulating love of Flossie 
Renwick she must hold at arm's length now. She 
looked forward with a strange fear to meeting the clear 
eyes of the gallant little friend of her vanished girlhood 
days. 

And, Bashford? She rose and left the office, as she 
felt that she dare not tell the self-constituted champion 
that she had poured out the wine of her blameless life 
already. "I may not be able to be here for some days," 
she faltered to the astonished Bodley, who quickly 
sought out Blake to commune with that jovial fisher- 
man. 'This thing has broken her spirit," sadly moaned 
the kind-hearted senior. 

"Yes, she takes it devilish hard, poor girl,'' sympa- 
thized Blake. "It is a rough old world that we navi- 
gate in nowadays," he sighed, "and the 'square deal' is 
a thing of the past But, I hope that Ba^bford will 
make it all right" 



\ 



CHECKED THROUGH. 139 

There was that in the girl's yearning heart which 
^ashford could never make all right! For she was 
T)eginning to see that all her toilsome plowing and 
planting, her years of lonely self-devotion, had only 
brought to her an empty harvest of tares. In the 
proud isolation of her maidenhood, a swift Atalanta 
of the mind, she had outstripped her sisters, sitting 
waiting with idly folded hands for their fate in mar- 
riage. And now, she knew that her own legal identity 
was merged in that of another, all the fair ambitions of 
her girlish days were clouded, and her individual suc- 
cess as an independent lawyer was a thing of the past. 
And, as she sought her tarrying place, not even a 
home, for her right abode was elsewhere, this strong 
woman, yearning toward the right, knew that she was 
as weak as the weakest, only a woman, and "a stranger 
within the gates'' of Minerva's temple. It came to her 
then how little of our own lives we really rule, at the 
last, and she then felt the swelling heart in her bosom 
rise in a silent appeal to the mother she had never 
known, and the dear father whom she had lost. For 
she had thoughtlessly barred the door upon honest 
Bashford and loyal Florence Renwick. She had feared, 
also, to meet staunch Hugh Atwater's inquiring eyes, 
and even Counselor Jarvis' tender sympathy galled 
her. Her rooms, silent and peopled with dreams, were 
unbearable. She wandered out in the afternoon and 
aimlessly sought a modest shop where a working 
jeweler had often executed her trifling behests. "Ah, 
this is really a superb ring,'' murmured the man who 
noted her little order. He gazed at the order book 
when she had swept away in an abashed silence. 

"S. B. to M. W. Oct. 13, 1891," he read off the 
book. "An unlucky number! Poor girl! I wonder, 
is it the end of the beginning — or the beginning of the 
end !" For he had also noted the wistful sorrow of her 
eyes. "There is something wrong," the young man 
sighed, for he had himself seen many hesitating women 
pausing on the road in life with an imploring finger on 
their pallid lips! It had been a girlish fancy of the 



140 CHECKED THROUGH. 

shadow wife to have the letters of that conquering 
name always before her eyes — and before a week was 
over she again visited the dusky little shop and or- 
dered a plain gold band, with the same initials 1 "I 
need a guard ring!'' she murmured, and then fled away 
in a sudden confusion. 

For the stately modem Portia was a woman fond 
and blind after all, and she feared now the sound of her 
own voice ! 

"We must be very prudent for a week or so!''' hastily 
whispered Mr. Seaton Bennett, as he sought her pres- \ 
ence in a favorable moment, when the girl had listlessly 
taken up her office work again. Her first duties — ^an 
unwelcome labor of necessarily continued deception- 
had been to pen evasive letters to Hiram Bashford, 
and to the returning Mrs. Renwick! The destruction 
of several sets of letters had not prevented the two dis- 
patched from being merely lame attempts at cold sub- 
terfuge ! The "usual ease" of the "go as you please" 
woman in shifty lying, was no heritage of her increas- 
ing troubles! For she — lonely and great-hearted — 
could suffer, but she could not lie ! 

The brow of Mr. Seaton Bennett was also contracted 
now in the faintly drawn horseshoe, which told of the 
bearing of a daily burden, and all the strain of an in- 
ternal conflict! His shoulders were broad, but the 
yoke of Tammany rested upon them now! It was a 
tribute to the powers of persuasion possessed by the 
adroit Doolan, that the busy devil was tugging away 
continually now at Seaton Bennett's wavering heart! 
He was also the slave of a master whose influence daily 
increased! For, "Red Mike" was no despicable Meph- 
istopheles! An acute judge of men, as well as of 
"light flesh and corrupt blood," in his dark eyrie, he 
had learned wondrous lessons of the vulnerability of 
human nature when taken unawares! The easy re- 
laxation of a "political joint" had given him unusual 
chances to use his ferret eyes! He was "eager to take 
responsibility," and also to oblige a friend! There 
were very few of the bright plumaged political birds 



CHECKED THROUGH. 141 

who wandered into his "turkey trap" who could ever 
retrace their steps! "When yeVe got a man's head 
turned, ye must always keep following him up!" was 
his sage advise to Patsey Casey, his head bar-keeper and 
coming successor. For a knife thrust or a pistol ball 
might at any time suddenly remove "Red Mike" to 
"another sphere of usefulness!'' It was a wild, excit- 
ing life, this open and hidden intrigue in the tawdry 
splendors of His Spiritual Domain! He had craftily 
inflamed to the utmost the mad ambitions of Seaton 
Bennett's daring mind! Thwarted in his "reach out" 
for the lost hundred thousand, saddled with an unac- 
knowledged wife, fearing Bashford's resentment, should 
the marriage intrigue be discovered — Bennett had de- 
cided to stay aloof for awhile from the secret bride 
whom he had so passionately wooed! "It will not 
help her, and it can do me no good!" he mused — "and 
I must 'make this calling and election sure!' If I 
make a hit in Congress and 'succeed myself,' there are 
a thousand ways of reaching money at Washington !" 

But the sly schemer already knew now that he must 
play a deadly secret game to reach Congress, and out- 
wit both the Tammany chiefs and his dangerous men- 
tor, "Red Mike!" To reach the money, after he 
"reached Congress," was an easy matter. For the sands 
of the river of Pactolus are ever gold-bearing — and he 
had an abiding faith in the productiveness of trusts! 
Sugar trusts, cotton trusts, steel and iron hidden trusts, 
armor-making trusts, whisky trusts, ship building 
trusts — and all forms of that pious fraud branded on 
our national coins, "In God we trust" — ^for that, was 
the only unproductive American trust — a trust in "fu- 
tures !" Mr. Seaton Bennett was trusting in the pres- 
ent to evolve a golden future, and his clear gray eyes 
did not yet seek to pierce the mist "over the river!" 
He had dissembled with "Red Mike," and carefully 
"pumped" that rubicund Figaro upon the whole de- 
tails of the relict of the man who had trained with the 
Honorable William M. Tweed ! Bennett had seen the 
Americus Club in its pride of power, disporting at 



142 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Long Branch under the tutelage of the great "Boss!" 
He remembered the diamond-set Tiger badges— the 
glories of the resplendent band-leader — ^the high tide 
of greenbacks, in those halcyon days when Colonel 
Jim Fisk's steamers and Helmbold's triumphant char- 
iot dazzled the diamond-decked daughters of Eve, 
crowding to see the fleet-footed Longfellow and Harry 
Bassett race for hundreds of thousands! 

It was a time of light loves-^of lightly won hearts, 
held more lightly still ; of lightly popping corks and a 
light hand on the reins, in the gallop to the devil! But, 
in the proposed succession to the garnered profits of 
one of the men of might, in these same halcyon days, 
Seaton Bennett felt like going a little slow ! He wished 
to assure himself that the "widow's mite'' was there; 
that she was reasonably fair to view; and, also, in a 
respectable state of preservation. He remembered the 
reverse of the Tweed picture! The flight of the birds 
of prey to the four comers of the earth, and the sad 
hour when Tweed — old, heartbroken and humble — 
was led into the Tombs as a witness in convict stripes, 
led by insolent jailers, and the awe-inspiring "horrid 
example," to a gaping crowd on Centre Street. For 
the urchins looked over the head of the disgraced cap- 
tain whose picture had been turned to the wall, to see 
above him there in golden letters carved on thejpgyp- 
tian plinths, "Rebuilt under the direction of tyf Hon- 
orable William M. Tweed, President of the Board of 
PubHc Works!" And too well Bennett knew that the 
heartbroken man had outlasted the inscription on the 
everlasting flint! For they had torn away the badge 
of a betrayed public trust, and of a saddening private 
shame! 

On the very day when lonely Madeleine Bennett had 
sought the poor shelter of her "model apartment," the 
flimsy pretext of a legal conference, brought Seaton 
Bennett for the first time into the presence of the fair 
woman who so keenly watched over the heaped-up 
million saved for her from the wreck of the Tweed 
ring! The residence of the vivacious widow on Mtir- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 14S 

ray Hill was soberly staid in its substantial elegance. 
And there Mrs. Edgar Martyn forgot that she was once 
the spouse of Mr. Patrick Edward Martin, an aspiring 
and conspiring plumber! The judicious escort of two 
socially acceptable gentlemen who were treading the 
Tammany wine press, gave the air of an embassy to this 
first visit! Seaton Bennett was astonished to notice 
the ease with which these pieces of human chess slid 
along the board, under Red Mike's directing finger. 
It was no brute cunning — no assumption — but the 
keenest correctness of logical good judgment and 
"horse sense'* which gave "Red Mike'' Doolan an as- 
cendancy over men a thousand times his superior! His 
unflinching staunchness as a "man of his word in good 
and evil repute" proved him that rara avis, "the honest 
man!'' For had not Simon Cameron, a whilom Sec- 
retary of War and the Duke of Pennsylvania, pithily de- 
fined "an honest man" to be a fellow who stayed 
"bought," when you had bought him once? 

And the two presentable Manhattanites who con- 
veyed the legal hero of New Castle up to Mrs. Edgar 
Martyn's "castella" on Murray Hill had gently sound- 
ed his praises in advance, a brace of not guileless John 
the Baptists, making his way smooth! They were 
both involved in many schemes of the energetic Doo- 
lan, aud were also splendid public representatives of 
that ramified influence which, stretching out from 
Tammany Hall, spread its filaments into Wakely's, 
"Red Miice" Doolan's and countless other "joints," as 
well as the palatial cafe of the Hoflfman, and "Spen- 
cer's Re^," at Saratoga. Seaton Bennett's heart was 
beating wildly as he crossed the threshold of the Mur- 
ray Hill parlors of this spider fair to view! He was 
trying to triok his wily mentor, and to muzzle the Tiger 
— ^in themselves both dangerous and delicate opera- 
tions ! He well knew that the visit was the prelude to 
a game of hearts, and his head was clear, for he had 
curbed the affections which were supposed to be about 
to undergo a "forcing process!" A coward for once, 
he put away the haunting vision of beautltul M.^<4fcV»xv^ 



144 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Ware, as he bowed low in his introduction to the relict o 
of the golden plumber! A brief glance at the double i 
drawing rooms had told him that this was the home t 
of generous luxury and all that surface refinement i: 
which is open to the possessors of a full purse! For, r 
with American adaptability, what native woman can- - 
not rise socially when gifted with youth, beauty, wit r 
and wealth? The rivers of Abana and Pharphar are j 
mere rills compared to the bright social baptism of the 
flooded wisdom of Ward McAllister's lectures, the so- • 
ciety journals, and the hand books which give infal- t 
lible recipes both for the removal of freckles and the ^ 
etiquette of the Court of St. James! The keen-eyed k 
young lawyer saw in the inspiring young "demi-bru- j( 
nette" (see society reporter's manual), a woman who I& 
had both beauty and "go'* in her composition! It was J 
fortunate that Seaton Bennett's distinguished manners jui 
carried him over the "mauvais quatre dlieure'' with i 
nervy coolness. For, the woman who was about to fc 
play Aspasia to his role of Pericles was as justly men- n 
tally balanced a coquette as ever "sized a man up," to h1i 
use the vernacular. Bennett knew not that the for- M 
tunate demise of the golden plumber, ere the sword of va: 
Damocles could smite "the back of his neck,^ had left k 
the youthful lady free to travel abroad, and, by polish Tl; 
and social attrition, attain the surface gloss of the Four in 
Hundred! A mere girl when her plumber had ter 
"climbed the golden stair," she was even now a provok- m; 
ingly pretty unanswered conundrum! For the age of sf 
thirty would be as just an estimate as thirty-five, with ^1 
a strong leaning to the first! If Seaton Bennett's dec- k 
orous semi-professional attitude of the "visiting law- f" 
yer" who was "ready to oblige" was well chosen, it % 
was no more fortunate than the gentle dignity of "the ;n 
woman of property" who bowed to all the cares of the 
"golden yoke!" 

With well studied preoccupation the two statesmen 
withdrew, leaving the two artless lovers of the future 
together, and hied themselves away to that red brick 
lort with liver-colored trimmings, where the homely 



\ 




CHECKED THROUGH. 145 

ra of Signer Antonius Pastorius divides the great 
e-story building with the "Children of Light!" And 
eoBiere, above, Tamanend, the spent bow in his left 
ssdlUsUid, his right outstretched, stands with his furred 
• *^^ntle and keeps an eye on men and things in Gotham. 
s^bove him, the proud legend over his niche, "Tam- 
Tj-^any Society — 1789-1867'' — tells of many generations 
'^C^ public reformers and political rebels overthrown. 
^5^*he great internal hall, the cave of the Tiger, is paved 
^^^^ith the bones of the bold victims whose scalps have 
e ETOeen first taken by Tamanend — or Tammany — b, wise 
^^M Delaware chief with a remarkably **horizontal 
^^f?^«adP In the little council room, a Tweed, an Honest 
^il ohn Kelly, and, greater than all, an autocratic Sphinx 
'''Ooker, have "ruled the roast," with watchful eyes 
*'^pon the division of the political tid-bits! The Tiger's 
K£ Jungle was now familiar ground to the rising lawyer, 
^SSeaton Bennett, who basked in the maternal smile of 
i*'Wiat femininely capricious animal, the Tiger! Bennett 
3& Avas secretly astonished at the cool self-possession with 
'e Avhich Mrs. Edgar Martyn led and turned the rippling 
kr tide of their first half hour's social communion. In 
i: "vain did the club man try to discern a single break in 
bf lier manners, or the faintest evidence of "gaucherie." 
lis There was nothing suggestive of the golden plumber 
XT in the "spoil of the Orient and Ind" judiciously scat- 
lac tered around! Moreover, the quiok-witted relict of the 
3k- man who had obligingly sought the golden shore had 
tT'^set up an auspicious ancestry of colonial worthies, 
t& who smiled down from properly tarnished "old gold" 
ec- frames upon choice revolutionary bric-a-brac, judi- 
w-j ciously purveyed by the departed plumber's useful cash ! 
i While Bennett was taking this mental inventory, the 
is vivacious young widow had furtively given him a curs- 
i- ory examination. She looked him squarely in the 
eyes and then, mentally ejaculated: "He will do! He 
is the very man I want!'' "It looks all right!" mused 
Df Seaton Bennett, as he carefully followed the incisive 
cl; instructions of the rich stranger client as to some 
}ri trifling property matters! He well knew just when to 



146 CHECKED THROUGH. 

make his graceful adieux ! A smile faintly shone out 
on his face, as, with a backward glance, he observed 
the would-be queen of Tammany gazing after his own 
retreating form. And before many weeks passed, 
spurred on by his goading ambition, gently goaded by 
**Red Mike,'' he had at last found the "way in," as well 
as "the way out." He had returned often, and the 
grave butler secretly hailed him "as the coming man^ 
long before poor Madeleine Ware, with a touch of girl- 
ish fancy, had bought the plain golden wedding ring 
which she wore on a ribbon around her neck! Anc 
the man who kept a secret from "Red Mike" had, be 
fore the month was over, a darker secret to hide fron 
the poor helpless modern Portia, who now lived onlj 
on the stolen interviews, which her husband mad< 
judiciously brief! For the Murray Hill widow's danc 
ing eye had learned to "brighten as he came!" Am 
Seaton Bennett, coward at heart, was afraid of th< 
throbbing of his own feverish pulses as he dared t( 
think: "I must find a way to cut loose from that pau 
per, Madeleine ! But, there is Bashford to watch, an< 
all the others!" He was gaunt and hollow-eyed no>^ 
steeped in his plotting, and the trusting Madelein 
Ware only dreamed, as she watched him secretly in th 
busy office hours, that the fire which consumed, wa 
the hidden love for the wife whom he dared not yc 
openly take to his bosom. And so, she waited in a: 
infinite tenderness till he should lead her in love fa 
away! 

Seaton Bennett ardently longed for the prefix "Hoc 
orable" before his name with a consciousness of hi 
own mental superiority! He well knew that the scienc 
of politics in New York city was now only a great cc 
operative business! In the days of his "rapprochc 
ment" — under the veiled tutelage of "Red Mike" — ^h 
had met the twenty dominating spirits of Tammany a 
clam bake and outing, on hunting-parties, yachtini 
trips and many other secret junkets ! In a way, he wa 
now "free of the town !'* He was recognized by all a 
"a coming man!" For, the public business of No 



CHECKED THROUGH. 147 

"York city, the imperial metropolis, was two hundred 
millions of dollars annually, and dwarfed the beggarly 
sixty millions handled by the United States govern- 
ment when the first gun bellowed a defiance to Uncle 
Sam at Sumter! 

Bennett well knew that the Tammany Society was 
no longer a "gentleman's club," as in the old days of 
the Coopers, Hewitts and the Shepherds! The good 
old days of 1840 to 1855. He recognized the rise of 
the "boss,'' the "one man" fetich, in the baleful career 
of that artful son of Belial, "Fernando Wood," whose 
milesian slogan, "Femandywood," even struck terror to 
great Abraham Lincoln's stout heart! And Tweed, 
the "old man of the mountain," had also ridden on 
Tammany Sinbad's galled shoulders. The vigorous 
reform effort of Honest John Kelly had led down to 
the days when the stem Croker silently ruled a domain 
vastly more important than the kingdoms of many 
crowned heads! And, Bennett also knew that the 
council of the Star Chamber — the black Star Chamber 
— ^followed their leader, no usurping Richard, but a 
man of marvelous political sagacity, in the discovery 
of fit men for the ornamental and representative sta- 
tions in the gift of the purring Tiger of Fourteenth 
Street! Two months had drifted on in the awkward 
waiting for Hiram Bashford's return, and the legal mill 
still ground along with monotonous revolutions. Sea- 
ton Bennett carefully studied the changed mental form 
of his unacknowledged wife. She performed her daily 
duties in a perfunctory manner, and the "rising and 
going down of the sun" brought no new light to her 
lovely eyes — ^no flush to her pale cheeks. "That splen- 
did woman seems to have lost all her old spirit!" sor- 
rowfully said Bodley one day, to the brilliant junior 
partner. "I am glad Bashford is coming back soon, 
and that he has written me of the arrival next week of 
Mrs. Renwick, the great railroad heiress! I know the 
lady but slightly, but I shall beg her to take Miss Ware 
away, at least till Hiram's return! It would be a very 
good thing to do !" said Seaton Bennett, g\^xvcY^^Vfc«ek^ 



148 CHECKED THROUGH. 

ly at Miss Ware's opened door. For, with some in- 
tuitive fear, the modem Portia merely beheld herself 
now as a clerical adjunct to the higher class. Some- 
thing had been taken away from her which paralyzed 
all the independent action of her mind, and she was 
mentally drifting! There was no one to lean on! 
And so many curious eyes were watching her at the 
"model apartment!" Madeleine tried to explain to her- 
self her husband's practical avoidance by his fear of the 
lynx-eyed journalist, Minnie .Walton, and of the other 
busy gossips who were "Mrs. Grundy's bodyguard" 
near her lonely rooms. And the janitor, too, was a 
blackmailing Vidocq — his wife, also, was a green-eyed 
monster of coarse insinuation. And so, holding each 
other at arm's length — with double secrets between 
them — the strangely wed lovers mutely gazed across 
the rooms of the legal fortress at each other with a 
vague unrest! Madeleine Ware could not lie to her- 
self. "He could easily find a way to be nearer to me, 
if he cared, or — if he dared!" She had not it yet in 
her half-awakened heart to accuse him, but she bent 
like a bruised reed! Seaton Bennett was secretly de- 
lighted when Bodley told him that he would go down 
to the steamer and beg Mrs. Renwick to come at once 
and bear Madeleine Ware away for a course of social 
homeopathy. "This is a flush royal of luck," mused 
Bennett. "This returning bride will keep her down 
there till the chief returns. He may follow her there, 
and I presume he will force some property upon her! 
It will be a good thing for her — if I have to break away 
from her! And — she will never dare to tell him all! 
She is not that kind of a woman, anyway! She is 
game to the last heart beat!" 

With a just valuation of himself, the brilliant Tam- 
many recruit had given "Red Mike" and his secret ad- 
visers ample time to distantly probe the widow's heart! 
He had already transacted some confidential affairs 
for that picturesque personage, and he daily admired 
the aplomb with which she made her points and guard- 
ed her handsome head in the sword play of life! 



CHECKED THROUGH. 149 

Bennett also admired her sang froid and, her un- 
amished name was another attraction! Only a slip of a 
jirl wife when the golden plumber died, she was spared 
the insinuation of knowing of his dark schemes — ^and 
yet, baby-faced as she was, she had often carried a 
quarter of a million stitched in her well-fitting corsets 
— in the days when her husband "was on the fence," 
and a "holy terror'' possessed her soul! For he was a 
man who literally followed the terse injunction of Tam- 
many's laconic chieftain, "to give up nothing!" Pride 
and self-interest, with the comfortable glow of her de- 
light in being "independently rich," had been a better 
armor to the young widow than the vinegary code of 
all those lank female purists who "believe in virtue, for 
virtue's sake!" 

Bennett had thoroughly "prospected" this golden 
field, watched over by the wary, dark eyed widow! He 
feared that Madeleine's impractical mental loftiness 
might cause her to refuse the Hall, or any substantial 
"tocher" from the absent Bashford. "She has about 
as much warmth in her soul as an equation in algebra!" 
he muttered, and, brought to bay at last by "Red Mike," 
the would-be Congressman was forced to explain "why 
he did not go in at once and make the running!" 

"See here, Mike," he sharply said, "I am not going 
to tie myself hand and foot!" The two rogues were in 
close conclave at the Palace of Bacchus in Long Island 
City. "I am now watching some inner intrigues in 
our own firm. I know just what I am worth to Tam- 
many, and to myself! If I do marry Mrs. Edgar Mar- 
tyn, it will be only when I am elected and have my cer- 
tificate of election, uncontested, in my hand. Now, 
here we are in October, 1891. I cannot be elected be- 
fore November of next year! Why push things on so 
rapidly?" " 'There's many a slip,' you know, 'Twixt 
the cup and the lip,' " said Doolan, calling up a bottle 
to their aid. Over the foaming wine he remarked; 
"Ye're a sly one, Bennett! but ye don't know politics 
yet, smart as ye are! Don't you see that Mrs. Martyn 
and our friends,** he confidently whispered^ "have 



150 CHECKED THROUGH. 

talked it all over? You must colonize into the Nine- 
teenth. It's all fixed! It's a district where you are 
badly wanted— one that we always carry by a clear 
five thousand — ^and the little widow will not risk her 
money carelessly there! Bless you! Why, she is 
twice as *fly' as you are in the game of life! Now, will 
you move in there and *be handled by your friends?' " 

"How much will she have to put up for the nomina- 
tion?" huskily said the agitated young lawyer. "Thirty 
thousand of the good, green stuff is the figure!" an- 
swered Doolan. "It's a tidy sum!" "And twenty 
thousand for me, for the first opening season at Wash- 
ington!" remarked Bennett. "Yes! Yes! That's 
understood! Our friends have called for that, in a 
confidential way!" "Now, what's her real reason to be 
willmg to put up this fifty thousand dollars and give 
herself along with it?" Bennett was still fearful of 
some snare, some hidden pitfall! Red Mike laughed 
heartily. "Ah! My boy! Ye don't know women! 
Yer handsome face has stood you in good stead often! 
Perhaps ye've often been a fool to a woman's caprice! 
In that ye're no better off than the last popular tenor, 
the one great pugilist, or any moon-eyed piano punch- 
er, with a tangle of uncombed hair and a sixteen-let- 
tered name! But this woman is cut out of different 
stuff! She wants to show up in Washington, at the 
White House, on the arm of a man that she's not 
ashamed of! She wants to hear ye spoutin' there 
from the member's gallery! And to begin her 
real life with the *M. C tail to the family kite! 
For she's buried the plumber far deeper than any of 
his pipes! Now, what's yer answer? For, my boy, 
there's other good fish now in the sea, and they're 
mighty catchable! She can pick and choose!" 

Bennett was startled by this rough threat suddenly 
thrown out by Doolan! "Damn the thing!" he 
growled, "I hate to be pushed into a sack like a cat! 
I'll tell you what I'll do, Doolan ! In two weeks I will 
give you my answer, if I decide to colonize, and do 
as you wish. There is one thing that I stipulate for. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 151 

I know that a man who is married is a man who is 
marred — as regards all the outside charms of life! 
There is seventy per cent 'accident risk/ and an added 
burden on the man who fails now *in marrying sen- 
sibly!' I will not have my future handicapped if this 
thing does not go! I will insist on a quiet marriage, 
the next day after election — and I will not be humil- 
iated by any one knowing what I would owe to a rich 
wife!'* His heart was beating wildly as he saw a 
shabby trick of the future possibly rising up before 
him ! A social scandal, a smothered divorce, a public 
accusation of bad faith. "No! I must give Made- 
leine the slip, quietly!" He was already meanly un- 
faithful at heart to the woman whom he had drawn into 
the gloomy net of this secret marriage. The lonely, 
orphaned beauty! 

"Ye're very sensible in all this, Bennett," said Doo- 
lan. "And ye're only prudent, too! See how easy 
the thing works: You just move into the district! In 
secret ye can snuggle up to the widow! That's no 
hard job! She won't squeal and ye won't talk yerself-— 
a close corporation," he leered. "Ye get yer nomina- 
tion sure. The election money will be all put up, and 
— your twenty thousand will be handed to you on 
election night, when the returns are made up! The 
very next day ye can marry Mrs. Martyn and then slip 
away for a honeymoon tour and rest. For ye don't 
go in till March, and ye can stay quietly here in her 
cosy home, and then go in 'in glory!' Ye'll be a 'so- 
cial leader' down there, and ye can see when she brings 
ye the nomination, she'll make a big running for ye 
down there, too! She's a very fine woman!" 

"Well, wait two weeks!" cheerfully said Bennett. 
"I think that I can make it a go! I only want to hold 
on to this big legal connection ! I feel I can pull Bash- 
ford around later, but only secretly. The other two 
partners are already jealous of me! They must know 
nothing of my ideas until I am named for the place. 
In that way, it would help me — in any other way it 
would be my ruin, as a lawyer!" 



152 CHECKED THROUGH. , 

"Ah! I seeT' grinned Red Mike. "Ye want the 
thing to be a 'spontanyous ovashun!' An outpourin' 
of the people's pent up affeckshuns! I'm onto that 
game, and it always takes! Ye see yer a new, fresh 
face! Yes! The thing will go through!^' He glee- 
fully rubbed his hands and then stirred up a "night- 
cap," as Bennett rose to seek the last ferry boat "How 
about your share of this money, Doolan?" he said 
sharply. "Oh! I'll take yer note of hand for that, 
payable after election, and before the wedding. Ye'll 
have no trouble to get it! For there's a softenin' 
period just after marriage, when a lovin' woman will 
do anything!" He chuckled coarsely. 

Mr. Seaton Bennett was the very last man to be 
warned out of the Manhattan Club smoking room on 
that eventful night. He drank nothing, but he smoked 
several great cigars before he saw any "way out" of 
the possible problem of avoiding the dangerous pos- 
session of two wives at once ! "One is enough at a 
time !" he growled, as he sought the friendly counsel of 
the stars on his way to his rooms. A dark shadow 
veiled the moon as he muttered: "There is one thing 
in my favor — Madeleine has no near friends, and I 
have no cursed relatives! There is no one to watch 
us ! Nobody cares !'' he bitterly mused. "And she is 
proud, shy, and perfectly unsuspicious ! I must 'sweet- 
en' on her all this winter, and so get her 'perfectly un- 
der my secret control !' Yes, and there^s that devil of 
a Bashford, too, on the watch! Does he really want to 
marry her?" And the husband of a few months mean- 
ly sneered at his loving wife's self-sacrifice as he 
slammed the street door behind him. "She was a fool 
not to have made herself an old man's darling!" 

And reticent, eager, watchfully suspicious, he was 
very mindful of the sharp-eyed Flossie Renwick's re- 
turn. "It's not on the cards for her to be a friend of 
mine! I must 'sweeten' on Madeleine, and make her 
a young man's slave! For she can't get away from 
me! If she would only be wise and take the Hall and 
the hundred thousand, she would then be worth the 



CHECKED THROUGH. 153 

keeping, and I could buy my own way into congress! 
If she would work old Bashford! Then I would be 
safe on the double event. What a woman to be at my 
side! But, she has her fantastic notions! With all 
her talents, she is a fool in the practical world, for such 
prudish women are hampered by custom and muzzled 
by the ways of the world. There's only one way for 
them to make a winning! The open beauty market 
of marriage, or the secret man hunt, using their charms 
*pro bono publico' where they will do the most good! 
That's woman's easiest career — and it comes to that 
at last with many of them." 

These ignoble sentiments were carefully concealed 
in the private mental "safe deposit" of the would-be 
statesman, as he began to assiduously follow up the 
secret wife who might make or mar his political future. 
In the brief interval before Florence Renwick's arrival, 
Bennett never referred to that loving pilgrim's pro- 
jected raid. With a kindly diplomacy, Hiram Bash- 
ford had trusted to the dashing affection of the return- 
ing woman who was now his secret ally. "Just carry 
her off by main force, as it were," was the chief's last 
injunction to the returning Renwicks. It fell out that 
Madeleine Ware was in all the softened glow of her 
artful husband's renewed tenderness when Madame 
Flossie Renwick burst in upon the dull legal toilers of 
William Street, as a bright meteor of Frenchified 
Americanism. She was replete with all the latest trans- 
Atlantic "improvements," and "not to be denied!" 
James Renwick was apparently busied with the de- 
lighted Bodley, while his wife struggled in loving ve- 
hemence with Madeleine in her secluded private rooms. 
And Seaton Bennett was watchfully forearmed as the 
two ladies emerged after a half hour's earnest con- 
versation. The plotting husband easily read in Mrs. 
Renwick's delighted face that she had gained a victory 
— and he studied the newcomer very keenly while go- 
ing through the formalities of an introduction. Mr. 
Blake was also a member of the merry social group 
presided over by the happy Bodley, now rubbing his 



154 CHECKED THROUGH. 

hands in secret delight. "I can attend to all of Hi- 
ram's affairs," he confidently said, "so. Miss Madeleine, 
there is absolutely nothing to delay you! When do 
you go home, Madame?" queried Bodley, fearful of 
Madeleine's possible recusancy. "We will take the 
early train to-morrow morning," laughed the victorious 
little matron, looking at her jeweled watch. "It is 
now two! I shall wait dinner for you till seven! I 
have your promise!'' was Mrs. Renwick's last injunc- 
tion, as her husband led her away. "I will go with 
you!" said the modern Portia, happy to have passed 
the dangerous ordeal of a meeting awkward enough 
all round. "I must speak to you about one or two 
cases, Mr. Bennett!" said Madeleine with downcast 
eyes, "as I shall leave at four, and then go home to ar- 
range and close up my rooms for the few weeks till 
Mr. Bashford returns!'' The husband and wife were 
unbetrayed by the last conference in Hiram Bashford's 
sanctum, but Madeleine Ware's heart sank within her 
when Flossie Renwick that night demanded, the very 
moment they were alone: "Who is that young man 
Bennett?" "Oh! Only one of the office lawyers!" 
carelessly replied Madeleine. "That man loves you, 
secretly!" cried Mrs. Flossie, "for, I caught his eyes fol- 
lowing you. The eyes do not lie!" 



CHAPTER Vni. 

THE FLITTING OF PORTIA. 

There was some unseen spirit of discord which hov- 
ered over Castle Atwater in the two long months of 
Madeleine Ware's visit with the girl wife, from whom 
she had once no heart secrets. Thfe golden glories of 
the Indian summer were as witching as in happier 
years, the blue mist veiled the Pennsylvanian hills as 



CHECKED THROUGH. 155 

tenderly as of old, but there were changed hearts in 
the little circle which the arrival of Hiram Bashford 
had at last made a "partie caree.'' For the great coun- 
selor had given but one day to the "welcome home" 
of his New York friends, one other to scanning his ac- 
cumulated business, and he had noted even then with 
a sinking heart that Madeleine had removed all her 
belongings to her own prim office room before her de- 
parture. 

"Where is Bennett?" was his first question after Bod- 
ley had closed the door for a brief conference in pri- 
vate. "I sent him out of town for a week or so. He is 
all run down with overwork. He has a giant intellect, 
and yet has taxed himself too heavily for us! He's 
away yachting for a few days!" 

"Bodley! We must do well by that youngster!" 
said Bashford, "for he has been a treasure trove, and 
when he comes back, and I return, let us think over 
what we can do for him ! I would not want any one to 
win him away! He is a rising man! He tried that 
Shearer case in classic style!" 

While Hiram Bashford wandered in the leafy groves 
of Castle Atwater, anxiously unbosoming his whole 
heart to Florence Renwick, the pale-faced young wife 
was thrown on the defensive. She had welcomed 
Bashford with timid gratitude, and shrank away from 
the ordeal of his exploring eyes. It was but natural 
that the happy bridegroom of a year, James Renwick, 
should fill up the social hours left on his hands with 
Miss Ware, while Florence and the chief in vain 
sought for the key of the enigma. "The girl is strange- 
ly changed at heart! She is not the woman I left 
here!" sadly confided the little millionairess to Bash- 
ford. "I cannot force myself upon her! How 
Quixotic! She tells me that she and three other 'in- 
dependent women' have leased a Mrs. Walton's place 
at Mamaroneck, and that lady, a journalist, goes over 
to Europe on a long professional mission — for a year." 
Bashford was gloomy-browed as he said: "Do you 
know anything of her ultimate plans?" "Not an iota!*^ 



156 CHECKED THROUGH. 

briefly replied Florence. * There is a wall — a thin, in- 
visible barrier — between us. I am really satisfied to 
see her join this new circle which she has selected, for, 
at heart, she has only fretted here. Even Jimmy sees 
that! Yes, we have lost the Madeleine of other daysT' 

"It is incomprehensible!" mused Bashford, flicking 
off a tall weed with his cane in a savage right cut. 
"Madeleine has absolutely refused to accept the Hall! 
She has rebuffed me in trying to restore the real dowry 
which Shearer swindled her out of, for I have com- 
menced new action for 'fraud' against him and his 
father-in-law, and I will wear them out yet and make 
Delaware too hot for them yet. But, as you say, we 
have lost the Madeleine we knew of old. She has let 
fall some vague hints about leaving New York and 
going abroad for study and change, or else leaving to 
select a legal field for herself in the West! Has she any 
intimates, any new connections, any heart affairs?" 
The old lawyer blushed, as he felt ashamed of trying 
to trap Madeleine's secrets at second hand! "No! I 
know of none! Do you know of any possible love 
intrigue yourself? Has any one been hounding her 
down in her lonely helplessness? She looks at times 
sadly distraught and unhappy! Her heart is not here, 
it is not with me! Where is it?" "Ah! I have lost 
the clue — ^and her confidence!" mourned Bashford. 
He dared not tell Flossie Renwkk of his own blunt 
offer to throw the battlements of his wealth and im- 
pregnable position around Madeleine! For he was 
now sadly undeceived, and he knew that no one loved 
him ! He had shunned the cold hearthstone of his own 
lonely mansion on Gramercy Park, and now Made- 
leine's unhappy eyes drove him away from the Penn- 
sylvania Eden. 

"I can't stand the strain any longer! Perhaps the 
poor child has lost all heart and hope. God bless her!" 
said Hiram, speaking in a hushed voice. "I shall 
leave the Hall to her absolutely for life, and with a re- 
mainder to you, should she die childless! And, by 
heavens, I'll tie up some money for her, too, with Hugh 



CHECKED THROUGH. 157 

and Renwick as trustees ! She must not know of this ! 
Florence, I trust my poor secret to you alone! Now, 
I must go down to Washington and report, then back 
to the old grind again!" He turned away with a 
choking voice. And beautiful Florence Renwick never 
saw him go, for a mist of tears veiled her bright eyes! 
"How he has loved her!'' she murmured, and the wall 
of the cold estrangement was builded a course higher 
that night. No one ever knew the history of Bash- 
ford^s last assault that night on the bulwarks of Made- 
leine Ware's false pride. For he knew her not as 
"Madeleine Bennett," and when the sound of earnest 
voices ceased and Florence sought her friend, the dopf 
of Madeleine's room was locked and the windows were 
darkened! In that darkness a woman, conscious of a 
life's mistake, of thwarted ambition and estranged 
friends — lay there sobbing alone, a neglected and un- 
acknowledged wife ! In the morning Florence eager- 
ly sought for an explanation, for Hiram Bashford had 
gone in the gray dawn ! 

And all the answer which she received was Made- 
leine's announcement of her own departure on the mor- 
row. It was a kindly fever of helpful love which made 
Florence Renwick still cling to Madeleine that last 
night with straining arms, but the departing guest gave 
no sig^! "At least, you will promise me one thing, 
Maddy!" implored Florence. "You will make no 
change in your life, you will not go away without giv- 
ing me a sig^! Think of all the past! Of all the 
hearts, the loving hearts here! You are under some 
sorrow — ^under some spell! But you will give me a 
sign! That I may see you, that I may come to you! 
Tell me— what is it?" 

Touched to the heart, the stately Portia drew Flor- 
ence to her throbbing breast. "I will give you a sign. 
You shall know all — ^when there is anything to tell!" 
"And there is nothing now?" The little matron's eyes 
were searching her very soul. "There is nothing!" 
sadly said Madeleine, as they parted, and the saddened 
woman, true to one who meditated her betrayal, slept 



158 CHECKED THROUGH. 

with that holy lie on her lips ! It was holy to her, for 
she was true to Seaton Bennett — "quand memer 

Tears fell upon the roses which she kissed after Flor- 
ence Atwater had whispered the last "Grood-bye'' at 
the station next day, and the last golden link parted for- 
ever as they separated with the unanswered question 
thrilling both their anxious hearts! 

Back to her work, back to the new home whose se- 
lection had been approved by her secretly wedded hus- 
band as furnishing a complete defense to prying eyes, 
— the spiritless woman went, in all the cloud of the 
complete estrangement. 

Before Hiram Bashford had returned from the long 
drawn out welcome home of the Secretary of State, 
Madeleine Bennett was back again at her daily duties 
with an inscrutible face, and wrapped in the mantle of 
a new self-evolved resistance to even the most affec- 
tionate intrusion! Blake and Bodley gazed at each 
other with wondering eyes, and then, exchanged grave 
nods and wags of the head at the evident constraint of 
the chief toward the woman whose mysterious self- 
repression astonished them all. "Things are going 
decidedly wrong in that direction!'' sagely remarked 
Bodley, whereat Blake wondered. "The girl stands in 
her own light!" he regretfully said. 

And yet, in the lengthened vacation of the absent 
wife, Mr. Seaton Bennett had very judiciously moved 
forward his lines of circumvallation about the wary 
widow of Murray Hill! A week's knocking about the 
Sound, on that snug schooner yacht, the "Raven,'' 
brought back color to his cheeks. For he had all the 
threads of his tangled skein now well gathered up! A 
few secret conferences of the Long Island Sporting 
Club and some sub rosa committee work at Tammany 
Hall, with a jaunt to Saratoga, where horses, flirtations, 
a bit of play, a little epicureanism, and some moon- 
light strolls with the fair widow, amused him; all this 
had kept him in touch with the Tiger's secret council. 
"The cards are running all my way!" gleefully cried 
Bennett on his return. For Hiram Bashford had g^ven 



I 



CHE5CKED THROUGH. 169 

him a royal accolade of welcome into the higher ranks 
of the profession. "Bennett, don't hesitate to tell us 
what we can do for you as a firm," he said. "You have 
fairly won your spurs !" So the cowardly husband ex- 
ulted in his safety, for there, as he came out of the 
chiefs room, facing him, sat his noble wife, with her 
beautiful steadfast eyes fixed gravely upon him in an 
implicit trust Her loving pride in her husband's ova- 
tion from Bashford was most coldly chilled by his 
furtive remark, when he stole in for a few words: 
"Did old Bashford do anything of a practical nature 
for you?" The startled woman murmured: "Seaton! 
I could take nothing from him! What you cannot 
give me, I will work to gain for myself!" The plotter 
saw his error and sneeringly said: "He seemed so 
very expansive in his general glow of glory, that's all! 
I will come out to Mamaroneck to-morrow and spend 
Sunday!" And he threw in a few tender words, which 
faintly revived the glamour of the days of iris hopes! 
But an uneasy loneliness secretly gnawed at the 
woman's proud heart! With no definite accusation, 
she felt herself deserted in spirit. It required all Sea- 
ton Bennett's skillful touch of the "lost chords" to 
bring the harmonies out of her heart when he came to 
see her at Mamaroneck. Even his first query jarred upon 
her when he arrived at the snug Walton retreat. "Is 
there any fear of Hiram Bashford blundering in on 
us here?" Madeleine's heart was rent with a sudden 
pang as she said, sadly: "There is no fear! I see no 
one but you ! And, he will never seek me out again !" 
Seaton Bennett bent his brows in moody reflection 
as he took the last Sunday night train for New York. 
"Confound these women, with their mysterious depths 
of unfathomed nature!" he growled. "Madeleine seems 
to have handled Bashford far too roughly! Her fin- 
gers are all thumbs! There was no need of her dig- 
ging this chasm! It's her stately independence and all 
that nonsense! Now, if she had been only alive to my 
interests!'^ he went mooning along, forgetting that 
these alms from Bashford would be her disgrace in the 



160 CHECKED THROUGH. 

world's eyes, and a badge of shame to him! "But, 
thank God, I control the situation!" he rejoiced. "None 
of them suspect my intimacy with this stiff-necked 
girl ! The Walton is away for a long stay abroad ! And 
this change of base is a protection! Yes! My lines 
are all closed up! Even if Madeleine would disap- 
pear, no one would connect me with it! Not even 
these sly women at the Walton cottage! They have 
their own secrets to keep !'' he chuckled. "And I will 
only make occasional calls! Madeleine can meet me 
at any station, or over on the Hudson, even on the 
Long Island shore! I must watch myself carefully 
both here and at the office !'' The succeeding evenings 
Mr. Seaton Bennett devoted to a final review of the 
campaign for the winter. He evolved, in the quiet se- 
clusion of his club, a scheme to mingle far more openly 
in general society. "A good preparation for the com- 
ing congressional campaign!" he decided. His last 
task was to weigh the two women he was deluding— 
against each other — ^with the nicest care. He recog- 
nized the frank, business-like ways of Mrs. Julie Mar- 
tyn, who had systematically paraded him past her long 
list of properties, investments and securities. Tied to 
all the honorable silence of his profession, he gloated 
over the compact serried battalions of Mrs. Martyn^s 
wealth. He could not but admire the self-control and 
rare discernment which had carried her unscathed over 
the possible scars of the red hot plough shares on the 
usual path of the wealthy widow. Her name was men- 
tioned only in a hushed respect! Neither by covert 
insinuation, or vulgar ostentation had her good name 
been marred ! She was a woman to cause no lifting of 
the eyebrows, even in the high places of Washington 
society, for the velvety moss was thick long since on 
the grave of the golden plumber, and she had never 
made a single "break!" It was the custom of Mrs. 
Julie Martyn to socially entertain with a chastened 
sober elegance, and the support of certain dames of 
the blue blood was not wanting. Mrs. Julie Martyn's 
standing was "beyond all cavil !'' Her home was rap- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 161 

idly becoming "colonial/' and her succulent canvas 
back ducks, well-cooled champagne, veritable terrapin, 
and available carriage and opera box — drew these * 'pil- 
lars" of moral support — ^the blue-blooded dames — to 
her side with a magnetic pull of never failing power. 
Seaton Bennett slowly went over all her good points. 
**She is a fine dresser, good form, in brilliant health, of 
decided snap and go, veritably well grounded, and, as a 
'woman of no illusions,' would play her part well in 
any social rank!" He never looked for a being of 
"gushing tenderness;" he moved watchfully at her 
side, and with a cautious self retention was most un- 
failing in all his secret courtesies. In her presence, 
when alone, he poured out the best flashes of his well- 
stored mind, and most judiciously refrained from mak- 
ing himself "cheap in her eyes!" 

So, on through the varied scenes of the busy winter 
he held his winning place at her side, the gentle strain 
coming always from her own jeweled hand! The 
bodyguard of Tammany aristocrats, who were his only 
"fellow visitors," murmured often to the anxious Doo- 
lan as the fleeting days of the New York season sped 
away. They were all mixed up in the same "deal" which 
included Seaton Bennett, and they yearned for the 
surety of the "solid connection" which would bring to 
aid them all the mighty Doolan's manipulative power, 
Mrs. Martyn's support of a solid nature, the prestige of 
being on the ticket with Seaton Bennett, and the valua- 
ble down-town influence of the great firm of "Bash- 
ford, Blake and Bodley!" So, on upward into the 
zenith of the winter skies the star of Seaton Bennett 
triumphantly mounted! He forgot the trembling 
star, paled now by his own light, the wistful-eyed 
woman, whose burden of secret disappointment now 
burned in her own loyal, trusting bosom. In court 
and chamber, at club and in council, Seaton Bennett 
was hailed as a "coming man!*' Dumbly, mutely, with 
her shadowed eyes fixed on his in a veiled yearning, 
Madeleine Ware-Bennett made her daily toil a guard- 
ed sham to watch in spirit over the man who had ^X Va&\. 



162 CHECKED THROUGH. 

decided that in some way he must cast her off! Once 
only in the long March days did she break downl 
With her arms clinging around him, in a transport of 
loving despair, the young wife cried: "Seaton! Sea- 
ton! Take me away from all this! It is killing me, 
this double life — innocent though it be! For the part 
is too hard for me !" And, liar at heart, Bennett strained 
her to his breast. "Wait! Wait! Madeleine, my 
own!" he cried, "till summer comes again! Then I will 
tskp you far away!" And in this scanty comfort, she 
again faced the daily life, now an ordeal of suffering, 
for she could not frankly meet Hiram Bashford's sor- 
rowing, inquiring eyes! And even gentle Flossie 
Renwick had wept, under her Christmas tree, over the 
sundered tie that bound in love no more! At times 
Seaton Bennett, plotting a future treason, felt his stony 
heart waver! There was all the romance of Made- 
leine's splendid line of honored ancestry! Her old 
home, stately in its desolation, recalled the days of the 
vanished glories of the house of Ware. The breath of 
the vanished summer days quickened his pulses once 
more as when she turned to meet him in the dim 
wooded aisles of her lost birthright. "By God, it's too 
bad,'' he muttered. "She ought to have been bom a 
Duchess, or chilled into a Vassar *professorin.^ But the 
hell of New York's poverty and loneliness is no place 
for her. Why the devil didn't she marry old Bash- 
ford? Did he want her?" And the voice of his po- 
litical ambition drowned his dreams of the old stoned 
Hall and its witching gardens. "If I had the money, 
what a figure she would cut as queen of the country 
side! I might practice law a few years longer, buy 
the Hall and then rise to be Senator from Delaware. 
Bashford, old fool, may leave her a pot of money yet." 
But he feared the long waiting for "dead men's shoes." 
"Bashford may last thirty years," growled Bennett. 
"He has oaken ribs and a heart of steel. And those 
dreamy old Delaware burgesses do not take kindly to 
new comers. I would be smothered down there like 
Madeleine's father, in the little peninsula whence few 



CHECKED THROUGH. 163 

depart and whither few go. No, I will not wither in 
that mental dry rot — which made her father a life-long 
failure. And scenery, family traditions and local blue 
blood pride would not keep the old domain up. It 
would be a good place for Bashford to retire into, if I 
had let him marry Madeleine.'' And at last, Seaton 
Bennett realized that only a savage personal jealousy, 
born of an overmastering passion, had made him rob 
Bashford of a stately wife, at least a loving companion 
and a worthy later heiress. "Now, I can't get rid of 
her without sacrificing my firm connection or the con- 
gressional honors, if she makes the slightest row. And 
I can't get the nomination but by Julie Martyn's in- 
side pull.' I've but a few months, and she must be out 
of New York and hoodwinked into quiet long before I 
dare marry Julie. I could fight her if Julie would stick 
to me. But, damn it, I wouldn't dare to face Made- 
leine. Julie would know at once that a woman of Mad- 
eleine's character would not fight unless truth were at 
her back. There's one good thing, though. That 
blunder-head old justice of the peace at Magnolia is 
dead." Seaton Bennett chuckled as he remembered 
the reply of his official successor when the rising states- 
man, casually running over from Philadelphia, wished 
to look at the country magistrate's records. **Apple- 
jack laid him out, poor old boy," said the New Jersey 
justice of the peace, "and he burned the house over 
his own head, and all his records went up, too. A clean 
sweep. So I open on a fresh deal! If you want any 
legal information from his records, sir, you will have 
to wait till you see him." 

"This is lucky, as far as my own safety goes. She 
can prove no marriage," mused Bennett. "But it's all 
the same a deadly personal risk. Bashford would be- 
lieve her, and then throw me out of the firm. Julie 
Martyn, too, cannot be fooled like an 'ingenue.' I must 
fool Madeleine and get her far away, so far that she 
will not come back to New York till all is over and 
I'm safe." And then the busy, viewless devil who 
walked at his side whispered, "Why should she come 



164 CHECKED THROUGH. 

back at all?'' "Red Mike'' brought the issue up flatly 
as the April days came slowly on. "See here, Ben- 
nett/' he said, "there's the whole combination for the 
election year coming on soon. It's not so long to 
nomination now. Ye will ruin the chances of two or 
three of our men on the November ticket if ye don't 
make yerself square at once with Mrs. Martyn. Per- 
haps you don't know how deep she is in this year's 
work. Why, she is in 'dock and ferry speculations,' in 
'banking contracts' and a dozen other things, as well as 
'bridge and transit franchises.' For she can certify a 
check for a quarter of a million any day she wishes to. 
And the council 'squares her out' with a big slice after 
they use her ready money. Suppose she threw you 
over. You'd lose her, her million, too, and ye'd never 
see Congress. For she would follow you, and all her 
friends would 'knife you' politically and 'turn you 
down' every time. She is backing all the three men 
you look up to as your Tammany foster brothers in 
glory, and she owns the very yacht, the "Raven," you've 
been knocking around on all this summer. It's her 
wine you have been drinking." "Red Mike" eyed the 
agitated man, who was now penned up in a close cor- 
nen 

''How can I ever get rid of Madeleine, and at such 
short notice?" The lawyer was visibly debating a knotty 
point. 

"Bennett," whispered the keen-eyed Doolan, "if 
ye're stuck with any woman complication, if that's the 
only obstacle, I'll stay by ye to the death and help you. 
out! By God, ye are ruined for life if ye don't make the 
runnin' now, with the widow." 

Seaton ^^atinett, with pale lips, was murmuring, "To 
the death, to the death," as he sank into a chair. Ten 
minutes later he left Doolan's and the grasp df their 
hands was the pledge of an awful secret. For both 
knew now that the bar which signaled "No thorough- 
fare" to the Capital at Washington must bend or break 
iit last. 

"I'll cover yer tracks, and stand by ye," hoarsely 



CHECKED THROUGH. 165 

whispered Red Mike. "Make it an accident, or a — 
disappearance." When left alone Doolan sat down in 
a cold shiver and it took several "brandies straight" to 
lift him out of the gloomy spell. "Fifty thousand dol- 
lars is a g^eat pile, and it will just lift the last mort- 
gage on *Doolan's Row.^ " It was a new piece of prop- 
erty which he had ventured to build on wind. 

There was secret keeping all round the dismem- 
bered circle of the past year whereof the fragments 
revolved irregularly in the changed orbits of the office 
life of the g^eat law firm. Hiram Bashford's stately 
form was conspicuously absent for several weeks. He 
slipped away "incognito" to Delaware and Pennsyl- 
vania, and there perfected the trust which placed the 
Hall in the future hands of Madeleine Ware, with the 
reversion to Florence Renwick, should the beneficiary 
die childless. And Hugh Atwater and James Ren- 
wick now knew of a codicil of mighty importance at- 
tached to Bashford's will. "She shall also have the 
money to keep it up," he stoutly said. Before he pro- 
ceeded to take a personal hand in "harrying*' Robert 
Shearer and his banker backer anew, Bashford unfolded 
all his plans for a final "coup de main" to Mrs. Flossie 
Renwick, who was only in part consoled for the loss of 
the golden friendship of Ogontz by the presence of 
Master James Renwick, Jr., born to rule over the un- 
derlying deposits of coal and iron which upheld the 
mighty house of Atwater. "I shall take a two years' 
rest." Bashford confided to the beautiful matron. "My 
apparent leaving tlite firm is only to persuade Made- 
leine Ware of the barrenness of her own hard-won hon- 
ors. She has more than justified her intellectual claims, 
and yet, her face tells me that she is weary of that daily 
drudgery which is to man his best safeguard against 
mad speculation or vicious riot. There is a certain 
feeling of isolation sure to finally come over our 
estranged darling. I think that she sees now the 
martyrdom of her precious youth. The other members 
of the firm are only distantly polite. She will volun- 
tarily leave our firm when she thinks I am out of it. 



166 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Then, Florence, you must recapture her for me! I have 
done my best. I will go abroad, and your husband and 
brother can inform her later of the gift of Ware Hall and 
the trust of invested monies for her. You can tell her 
frankly that if she does not accept it, you must, and 
that, failing you, I will later set up an establishment 
for orphan girls there. Once out of this false New 
York life, she will soon marry some good man of her 
own social rank. Nature will assert itself.'* There 
was a pause. Mrs. Renwick's eyes were downcast. 
"Does this man Seaton Bennett not seem congenial 
to her? I thought — " The young mother hesitated, while 
Hiram Bashford laughed frankly. "Why, Bodley and 
Blake tell me they are simply indifferent to each other. 
No. Bennett is devoured with political ambition and 
he is the last man to load himself down now with a 
wife. He's a perfect type of the egoistic New Yorker. 
He will wait till he can afford to buy a wife — b, wife 
a la mode — ^after he has arrived at fortune, or else until 
some rich woman buys him; that's a new trade now for 
wealthy widows who want .social standing." 

"Ah, then I was mistaken," murmured Florence, 
bending over Renwick Junior, who was most vigor- 
ously trying to swallow both his chubby fists. 

"This is the last chance," remarked Hiram Bashford, 
"and it will reduce Madeleine's proposed career to a 
simple trial of will power between us. Of course, I 
count upon her feeling of delicacy to cause her to 
leave the daily association of the strangers left in the 
firm." 

"And if she should really go away West or leave 
us, on some tangential career," murmured Florence, 
her face troubled in doubts of the working of the new 
plan. 

Then, God be with her,'^ loyally cried Bashford. 
I have done my best." 

At this interesting time of the holding of all these 
new plans to entrap the modern Portia into the meshes 
of Friendship's golden net, Seaton Bennett had neatly 
lulled his unacknowledged wife into a. shadowy dream 






CHECKED THROUGH. 167 

of rainbowed hopes. "It will not be many months till 
a wedding ring will be on your hand, dearest," the plot- 
ter murmured. "My plans are now nearly finished 
and when one or two more sheet anchors are cast out 
for security I can break away and give you the happy 
home that I have long dreamed of. Yet, a little pa- 
tience." With assumed tenderness he wove his fairy 
web, while her glistening eyes beamed on him in happi- 
ness. That night she kissed the wedding ring which 
she wore concealed upon her bosom, throbbing with a 
new born hope. It was a renewed access of the love she 
had cherished in her loyal loneliness. 

"He loves me ; he works only to make me happy," she 
gladly whispered as she began to count the days before 
her. For he had whispered : 

"No one must know of our departure. Trust to me 
to bring all out right. You know what it would en- 
danger to arouse Bashford's wrath. You can slip awaj, 
as if going on a summer tour, and then secretly jom 
me." 

"I do trust you, in life and death, my husband," were 
the words which rang in his ears as he went away to 
answer a sudden summons. 

"Now, what's the widow's important business?" 
fretted Seaton Bennett, as he answered in person a 
very imperative note from Murray Hill. Mrs. Julie 
Martyn's private legal consultations had been royally 
paid for, and her aspiring suitor of the future knew 
that he would lose neither time nor money in her be- 
hests. Bennett was strangely agitated now as he lis- 
tened. 

"I wish you to act for me in a confidential matter 
which involves several hundreds of thousands of dol- 
lars," said Mrs. Martyn, with a peculiar glance, when 
her "counselor" was snugly ensconced in her dainty 
working den that night. Bennett's quick eyes noted 
that Madame Julie Imd not forgotten to do justice to 
everyone of her "fine points." A veritable Queen of 
Sheba receiving an ambitious and passionate Solo- 
mon. For it was but an "airy fiction" which kept them 



168 CHECKED THROUGH. 

now apart, and Julie Martyn's fiery glances told her 
legal champion that these days of suspense were all too 
long. They had easily fathomed each other's secret 
longings. 

'*Here are the papers of a new patent process for the 
reduction of gold ores and their vastly improved econ- 
omy of working," briskly said Julie Martyn, giving 
him a portfolio from her own private safe. "I have a 
very large interest in this affair. We have the inventor 
under control — a celebrated young German professor. 
He is now working in private, down at Prince's Bay. 
There is an old factory there which we have used for 
an experimental station, and we have a couple of our 
own trusty men watching him there in secret. Now, 
Mr. Bennett,'' the beautiful woman said, "I trust to no 
one but you." The lawyer's heart beat fast under her 
meaning glance. "They want more money. It is a 
matter of a cold hundred thousand dollars to risk. This 
new gold process seems to be a marvelous success and 
it will be tried on a great scale in some Montana mines 
of mine, this summer. I will put my yacht, the 'Raven,' 
absolutely at your disposal. The sailing master will 
have my own orders, and no one but you will be al- 
lowed to step on board. She is yours. All you have 
to do is to give your orders." The acute business 
woman dropped her eyes modestly under Bennett's 
burning glances. 

"Am I to go a gold hunting on a yacht?" he said, 
in wonder. 

"Not so," laughed Julie Martyn. "You are to drop 
in there unexpectedly during the early summer months 
as if you were only a confidential visitor. Watch him. 
Watch all those also who watch him. Look into this 
thing. It promises rarely. You can make these little 
holiday runs when you will. The yacht will lie off the 
Battery. It's just a pretty little sail down there. Then 
I wish you to keep yourself free this summer for me. 
Don't go rambling after strange goddesses," she smiled, 
"for you must go later out to Montana with him and 
tell me if the process does 'hold up' in a month's test. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 169 

at a forty-stamp mill. I will give you carte blanche, 
but/' she dropped her eyes, "this whole thing must be 
an absolute secret between us. I only trust to you." 

Their eyes were aflame as Seaton Bennett said, in a 
low voice, "But, to my partners?" 

"Oh, tell them that you are going hunting in the 
Rockies, or to the Yellowstone," laughed the quick- 
witted woman. "Then, when you come back, if you are 
successful," she paused in a sudden confusion, but she 
raised her glowing eyes and placed her hand in his, 
"there is nothing I will not do for you. I will see that 
you have your reward and — control a good block of the 
stock." 

The tell-tale flush of blood leaping to Bennett's 
cheeks told the panting beauty of her long-delayed 
victory. 

"I understand you," he said, with affected lightness, 
"and I will do as you bid me." 

"Remember, it is our own little secret," faltered Julie 
Martyn. 

"I will take these papers home and be ready to go 
down and see this professor at once. What is his 
name?" Bennett was glad to interject these details. 

"There are your credentials, sir," she laughingly 
said. "Professor Eckfeldt. It is sealed," she continued, 
handing him a letter. "The yacht captain will report 
to you at the office. And now I shall have to dismiss 
you, for I have an engagement. You see that I counted 
on your kindness." Her glance made the busy devil 
in his heart leap for joy. "Allow me to offer you a glass 
of wine. We must drink to the success of the Cyanide 
process." 

When Seaton Bennett departed, Julie Martyn, in her 
dressing room, gazed at her bright face in the glass. 
"I shall have a Washington winter at last," she mused, 
as the deft maid arranged her for a prearranged outing. 
For, she was sure of her wary fish now. The golden 
bait had caught him! 

A week later there was no secret in the office of 
Bashford, Blake and Bodley as to the long rest which 



170 CHECKED THROUGH. 

the chief proposed to take. A genial smile played 
upon Bodley's features, for the senior had handsomely 
"made it up to him" for the necessary hiatus in the 
annual European trips. "You can take Mrs. Bodley 
over to Newport," kindly said Hiram, "as you must 
stay in charge, and I'll see that it costs you nothing." 

Counselor Blake's fishing tour, too, was well earned, 
and he gloated over a proposed meeting with Seaton 
Bennett in the far Rockies. 

"This is a regular windfall," cried Bennett, after he 
had deftly communicated the news to Madeleine Ware, 
who was now the unconscious center of several hidden 
schemes. Little recked the happy woman, for by the 
throbbing of her happy heart she knew the time had 
come at last for her husband to take her away. 

"It is in your interest that I do this," said Bennett, 
"and not a human being must know where we meet. 
I will arrange it and tell you just what to do." 

"I trust it, all in all, to you, Seaton," was the simple 
answer of the delighted woman, who knew now that she 
would openly wear the hidden wedding ring at last. 
And there was "a song of love sounding in her bound- 
ing heart." 

Many and strangely varied trips did Mrs. Julie Mar- 
tyn's lawyer spy make to the secret laboratory on Staten 
Island in the last two months of the legal season of 
1892. And rapidly the secret understanding between 
the unfaithful husband and his lovely client progressed 
to a "confidential intimacy" of the closest kind. Yet 
the would-be Congressman knew the woman who now 
ruled him, far too well, to attempt the faintest insolence. 
There was a keen flash in Julie Martyn's eye, sharp 
enough to daunt even a professional roue. Bennett, 
cold and egoistic, had driven madly on in the path of 
ambition and was no Almaviva. He knew that an 
indulgence in the faintest liberty would wreck his whole 
campaign. And, though neither the Adam nor Eve of 
this new Paradise was guileless, they were both re- 
strained by the wordless pact which bound their futures 
firmly together even now. And they both slyly waited, 



CHECKED THROUGH. 171 

while Madeleine Ware waited counting the flying hours 
with a happy heart. She was tranquil, even though 
Hiram Bashford had already gone upon a preliminary 
trial jaunt of his long rest, no one knew whither. Made- 
leine was happy in Flossie Renwick's acceptance of an 
evasive promise to "come to her in the later summer.*' 
That acute matron waited too, confident of the final 
success of Bashford's innocent loving artifices. He 
had gone away in the hopefulness of Madeleine Ware's 
admission that she had yet made no summer plans, but 
would not remain this year at the office. 

"I shall surely not return till the October sessions if 
I decide to go away," was the modern Portia's gentle 
subterfuge. 

Bashford smiled as he pressed her hands in a last 
fond good-bye. "I shall hear of you through Flor- 
ence, I know," he said cheerfully, "and I shall see you 
again myself before the office closes." He did not 
know, as the fair woman gazed wistfully at his depart- 
ing form, that she stood tranced in a loving concern 
for him. 

"How will he regard my secret marriage to Seaton?" 
she pondered, as there was already a perfected plan that 
she should leave the city quietly for that mysterious 
voyage toward the West. "Ah, he will be so proud 
of Seaton yet," murmured Madeleine, "for my hus- 
band will forge on up to the head of the bar, when the 
head of the great firm retires." As yet no man dared 
to question Hiram Bashford's unchallenged leader- 
ship. These were golden days to Madeleine. 

Mr. Seaton Bennett was now an amateur scientist of 
a daily growing experience. "It seems almost incred- 
ible," he reported to Mrs. Julie Martyn, "but there are 
no weak links apparently in the logic of this great 
metallurgist. I have watched him with an eagle eye. 
I have made myself a school boy for your sake," he 
gently said, "and I only wish to make 'assurance 
doubly sure* before I pronounce it a success." 

"The Western trip will tell of our final victory," 
answered Julie Martyn. "It is all in your own hands." 



172 CHECKED THROUGH. 

And the blue waters of Prince's Bay were often lit 
up with the gleaming silvery sails of the "Raven'* as 
Bennett, now earnest and stern-eyed, watched the 
manipulations of the young German scientist In the 
carefully locked rooms of the Heidelberg eleve, Seaton 
Bennett spent hours in watching all the operations of 
the experimental machinery. Refractory ores hereto- 
fore sent to Baltimore or to far Swansea, readily gave 
up values almost to the assay limit, and the possibility 
of any lurking fraud seemed to have entirely vanished. 
It only remained for the new process to be tested on 
a grand scale in the far away glens of Montana. 

"This is the one chemical ingredient which will revo- 
lutionize all cheap gold processes," frankly said one 
day the spectacled blue-eyed young German, as he 
stood in his secret sanctum with the lawyer in their 
final conferences. For the discoverer had at last laid 
his whole heart open to Seaton Bennett. He knew the 
lawyer served the fairy whose gold made the mills go 
now in the hope of a future golden harvest. There was 
a formidable row of tinned cylinders standing there 
with huge labels all marked "Powers and Weightman, 
Philadelphia. Cyanide of Potassium. 25 lbs." The 
ghastly ornamentation of a skull and cross bones and 
the ominous word "Poison" caused Bennett to care- 
fully question the long-haired German youth, pipe in 
hand, whose shabby working clothes bore the mark 
of every acid, reagent and chemical known to his mys- 
tic art. 

"Is that such a deadly poison, Eckfetdt?" queried the 
lawyer. 

The amiable German took up a pinch of the white 
powder in a horn spoon. "There you have the lives of 
a dozen. It must be handled with care. The solution 
is often used in photography for cleaning old negative 
plates. I had a dear college friend who drank off a 
glass of it, thinking that it was water, and he dropped 
dead almost instantly. Of course, we use the cyanogen 
when liberated to attract the heretofore lost precious 



CHECKED THROUGH. 173 

metal in a chemical combination. There's our whole 
simple secret." 

"Has it taste?" huskily questioned Bennett. 

"The powder tastes like those French candies flav- 
ored with bitter almond, or like peach pits/' babbled 
Eckfeldt, as he wandered away to fill his long pipe. 

Some queer fancy then possessed Mr. Seaton Ben- 
nett to quickly fill his cigarette case with the "harm- 
less looking white powder" from the open tin cylinder. 

"You may sleep in peace to-night, Professor," re- 
marked the lawyer, as the spectacled scientist returned 
veiled in the clouds of his student pipe. "I shall pre- 
dict for you a great success. I believe in your proposi- 
tion from the first. I report in your favor.'' For the 
private espionage was now over and the sanguine in- 
ventor knew now that Mr. Seaton Bennett would pro- 
ceed to draw up the last papers assuring him a for- 
tune sufficient to return some day and marry that sap- 
phire-eyed fraulein with the Marguerite braids, who 
now pined for him under the castled steps of Heidel- 
berg. She kept her "watch on the Rhine" for the lover 
soon to return in a sudden prosperity, laureled and 
loaded down with shekels, to the mild raptures of a 
German bride. 

All the way back to New York, as the black-hulled 
"Raven" drove along under her bellying sails, Mr. 
Seaton Bennett thought of that ominous sign, the skull 
and cross bones, on those tin cylinders. 

"This seems to be most deadly stuff and it makes no 
noise. It is quick to act, and tastes like French candy," 
mused the legal expert as he carefully sealed up his 
cigarette case in several wrappers and then locked it 
in his own private locker on the yacht. "I am sure that 
Dutch fool will never miss this," he mused as he 
strolled into a drug store on his way uptown and then 
looked over the headings in a Pharmacopeia. He was 
unusually cheerful as he made his final report that 
evening to the fair and ardent woman who was destined 
to be either his salvation or his ruin. 

"If what you say is true, I will order Professor Eck- 



I 



174 CHECKED THROUGH. 

feldt to close up all and go at once out to Helena. You 
can follow him and be already at the Golden Eagle 
mine when he gets the apparatus in order. You will 
be free in two weeks. Shall I do it, Seaton?'' the glow- 
ing woman whispered as she stole up to his side and 
clasped both his fevered hands in her soft white palms. 
It was late when the recreant husband left the room 
where the mutual passion had been at last unveiled. 
For she had thrown off her womanly mask at last and 
he had suddenly dropped his own. In whispered words 
their burning ardor fanned the flame of the long pent- 
up passion. There was none to hear the woman's fond 
avowals. There was no spy to catch that rapid ex- 
change of plans which bound the lady of the "Golden 
Eagle" to the aspiring congressional neophyte, but 
fearing nothing in his arms, the woman told the story 
of all her dreams of their golden future. "I would not 
have betrayed myself to you,'' she murmured, with her 
hand resting upon his breast, "but I could not let you 
go and face this long separation without knowing that 
I loved you. There are a thousand eyes to watch us 
here, a thousand ears to overhear a single word 
dropped! Wait! Wait!'' she whispered. And before 
the traitor left her there was a day fixed which was to 
be marked with a gilded milestone in their lives! The 
day after the election, the "Honorable Seaton Bennett" 
and his wife would seek a revenge in sweet oblivion 
for all these months of weary waiting. And, on the 
assembling of the new Congress, Mrs. Julie Bennett 
would step over the threshold of the Capitol on the 
arm of her victorious husband. "I am so happy that 
I can open the door to you, Seaton!" the beautiful 
political intrigante murmured, "For you are worthy 
of it!" There were two happy women in New York 
city the next morning, two radiant ones — ^for Mrs. 
Julie Martyn veiled her new found joys in her own 
rooms, and Madeleine Bennett's heart leaped up when 
her husband said in a whisper: "Next week you are 
to leave quietly to join me, and, we will go away!'' 



CHECKED THROUGH. 176 



CHAPTER IX. 

IN THE LONE HOUSE BY THE LAGOON. 

The thin ice of all prudential restraint between Ben- 
nett and the fair widow of the golden plumber had 
mehed forever under the abandon of the amatory 
meeting wherein they had both lost their self-control. 
In these days of coming summer the signs of the sun 
god's worshipers were everywhere! The summer 
"young man'' now awaited with beating heart the evo- 
lution of the "summer maiden'* in all her tricksy glory 
of fleecy garb and bewitching smiles! The "Must Get 
Away" Club was abroad, and Seaton Bennett learned 
to admire the quick decision of his rich inamorata! 
One long evening of murmured confidences made the 
whole pathway straight for him. "You see, Seaton!" 
explained Julie Martyn, "I leave town at once, now, 
for my villa at Saratoga. I will give you a private ad- 
dress up there for letters and telegrams! You must 
arrive at the Golden Eagle mine unheralded, before 
Exkfeldt begins his work. I will give you my carte 
blanche and a power of attorney to handle that invest- 
ment. From Saratoga, I will work up your political 
matters ! Leave that to me ! The election certificate will 
be my wedding gift to you ! We must not be linked to- 
gether by gossip, for other aspiring men wish to go to 
Congress from the Nineteenth District! When you 
come back from Montana, telegraph to me. We can 
then meet at Schenectady — for even the stones talk 
gossip and politics at Saratoga! I am watched al- 
ways — and you may be watched, too, on account of the 
Prince's Bay experiments. The machinery now down 
there will be stored by our friend, and we will hold the 
German Professor safely clutched! He gets no pay 
for his transfer till you and the staflf at the Golden 
Eagle certify the success of the month's run! If that 
goes on all well, then *our run' is a straight 'run in!' 



V 

r 



176 CHECKED THROUGH. j 

To prevent our being annoyed in any way, take the ||s 
yacht, cruise around the coast a couple of weeks and j^e 
then run in to Baltimore. You can go out to Helena, ^^ 
Montana, direct by the St. Louis line, and no one will i 
know where you have gone to. Eckfeldt will do noth- e 
ing till you arrive. He comes here to-morrow for his 
final orders, and also, to turn over the keys of the 
Prince's Bay station. You can have your private mail 
sent on to the Southern Hotel at St. Louis, and no one 
will know whither you strike out from there. Eckfeldt ' i 
does not know that I doubt him, but I will have him I \ 
shadowed every moment till he reaches our own people 1 5 
at the Golden Eagle!'' Bennett wonderingly gazed at 
her! This was an executive business genius as well as 
a future society queen! "Are you afraid for your 
nomination?" the widow queried, seeing his unrest 
"Trust that to tne! It's more to me than it is to you!" 
He smiled as he kissed her, carrying a sweet conviction 
to her soul! "Seaton! You must let me give you 
some money!" she said, with downcast eyes. "Ah! 
My pay comes later!" he murmured, "when our inter- 
ests are one forever!*' "I will not be denied!" she reso- 
lutely said. "Promise me that you will draw any funds 
you need from the superintendent of the Grolden Eagle! 
He will have a private letter from me! I own the ma- 
jority of that stock!" she demurely said. "I do not 
want money! I want you!" he cried, in an excess of 
passion! Here was a helpmeet of a royal nature! A 
very giver of good gifts! "Now, do you see how sen- 
sible I am?" she smiled, putting up a stray tress of her 
rich hair, suddenly disarranged. "You can send your 
whole personal outfit on the yacht, and no one can ever 
trace you or me! If the cyanide process succeeds, we 
will have money to sway the Vanity Fair of Washing- 
ton and *do the grand,' " she laughed, breaking away 
from him. "I must leave you — ^the servants suspect,'' 
she whispered, and only a few passionate kisses were 
the seal of their last compact. "Remember, the 3racht 
is yours! Send her home from Baltimore, here, to 
wait for us, later!" was her last laughing sally as she 



CHECKED THROUGH. 177 

disappeared. Seaton Bennett sought his club and pon- 
dered over the injunctions of the woman who ruled 
him now! "I have no time now to lose/' he decided. 
"I have to pack, close up my office affairs, get Made- 
leine out of the way, and make a secret break out of 
town!" He gazed at his watch. "I think that I will 
go over and see Doolan!" he finally decided. "I may 
need some help, and he is the only man I can depend 
upon! Thank God! Fve earned my long vacation, 
and they are all glad to see me go ! But I must get 
Madeleine out of town first; after that, I will be on the 
sea in a day! She has got to be silenced until after I 
am elected! Then, if the cyanide process is a success, 
what the devil do I care anyway? Julie has a million 
in sight! With my election certificate in my hand, I 
can then defy this fool of a female Don Quixote! 
There's no one to back her up ! Bashford !'' He trem- 
bled as he thought of the chief's rage at any wrong 
doing toward Philip Ware's daughter! And then the 
busy devil at his heart laughed again! There was a 
suggestion so infinitely base that it staggered the trait- 
or for a moment. "If I merely declined to have his 
cast-off protegee shoved off on me as a wife — Bashford 
would not then dare to press it publicly! She can't 
prove her marriage to me, and he will find out that she 
has deceived him! Yes! It will do! The old man 
will give her money and so, retire the woman lawyer 
from public gaze! Perhaps the old boy may marry 
her! Why not? I can stand it — if the cyanide process 
is a success! But, what the devil to do with her while 
I go to Montana? I must plant her in some quiet hole 
and let her watch herself! Doolan may know of a 
place where I could isolate her, and I could fool her 
with the story of a secret speculation, or my taking a 
trip alone to find a Western location for us!'' 

Late that night, the budding congressman sat with 
Red Mike, closeted free from the revel below in the gin 
palace at Long Island City. And before they slept a 
plan was evolved which seemed to be impregnable to 
spying eyes! Bennett and Doolan both knew ever^ 



178 CHECKED THROUGH. 

inch of the Sound and the Long Island shores. "Pm 
going up alone to the Club House at Sag Harbor to 
get ready for a big season," whispered Red Mike confi- 
dentially. "There's a little place there where I can get 
a house to hide her from the world, for a season! I 
had it five years ago for a friend — ^who had a jealous 
wife. I could easily see she never left there till ye 
gave the word, if ye can only get her there in quiet! 
For there's no one to hinder, and Fd put somebody 
there, to keep the dove in the nest! Think it over!" 

Seaton Bennett's dreams were haunted that night! 
He remained at Long Island City until he had made a 
suddenly conceived run around Long Island on the 
railway. Some demon of haste possessed him, for, 
flying past Hicksville, dashing on to Greenpoint, he 
gazed upon the splendid expanse of Gardiner's Bay, 
and was not tempted to dally by the far blue shores of 
Gardiner's Island, with its flitting white sails, or the 
splendors of the great palatial hotels of Shelter Island. 
Back to Manor, and on to Sag Harbor and Amagan- 
sett, he hurried. Red Mike Doolan waited only for his 
return, and the travel-stained lawyer was curt in his 
replies as he sought a welcome rest in Doolan's palace. 
"It's all right, Mike ! It will do !" he growled. "Wait 
for me up at the club house! I'll be there inside of a 
week. I will not dare to write or telegraph. Remem- 
ber that!" "Did ye see the smallest city in the world? 
The beautiful burg of Fireplace!" anxiously demanded 
Doolan. "Yes! I drove over there from Amagan- 
sett. It's just the place!" cried Bennett. "Send me 
up a bottle of brandy and some cigars! IVe got to 
go to town at once! I'll tell you all before I go!" 

Bennett snatched a brief rest, and his eyes were 
bloodshot and haggard when he reached his own rooms 
in the sheltering dusk of the evening. He had tele- 
graphed to the office the news of his sudden sickness, 
and he chuckled, as he knew Madeleine Ware would 
hear of it at once! "She will think that I have been 
making the secret arrangements! Damn it! I must 
fool the whole lot!" he cried savagely, "and make an 



CHECKED THROUGH. 179 

end of it now!" The busy devil in his heart laughed 
as the last plans were made with Red Mike. "The 
cyanide plan will work!" the demon cried. "He may 
fool them all! His partners, Red Mike, the ambitious 
widow and the fair-faced wife whom he hates in his 
heart, but he will never fool me!" 

Mr. Seaton Bennett awoke after his wearying race 
around Long Island to a day of incessant activity. 
Strange thoughts mingled with his busy projects, the 
moaning of the winds and wild dash of the waves of 
Montauk Point seemed yet to echo in his ears as he 
leaped from his couch. "I have only one last ordeal!" 
he reflected. "To get Madeleine quietly out of town! 
Yes! That is the very place! And I will leave them 
all in a mist! No one will ever know!" He forgot 
that busy devil in his heart, and with all his tortuous 
schemes buzzing in his brain, he yet found time to call 
in at Huyler's and select a beautiful casket of Parisian 
bon-bons as a first offering to Julie Marty n ! A superb 
basket of flowers accompanied the gift And he found 
time also for a little personal purchase, a neat case 
with some other samples of the confectioner's art, 
which he carried away in his hand. There was the 
flavor of peach stones, of bitter almonds, giving a 
quaint piquancy to one of the dainty layers! And yet 
he was not a lover of cates and dainties! On his way 
down Broadway he sent a few hurried last purchases 
to his rooms, then leaping into a coupe, he sought the 
office. "I think that I have now all I need! I shall 
take very little baggage!** he grimly said. "For mine, 
is not a pleasure trip!*^ Before he was busied with the 
closing up of his last office details, he found time to 
hurriedly whisper to Madeleine Ware: "I will leave 
early and come over to Mamaroneck by five o'clock. 
Be sure to meet me!" There was all the glow of the 
sunrise of love in Madeleine's happy eyes as she 
whispered: "I am all ready, at a moment's notice!" 
Counselor Bodley was now eager to see his junior de- 
part for the long vacation. "You have earned it, Ben- 
nett!" he cried. "Leave all to me. There's nothing 



180 CHECKED THROUGH. 

to keep you ! Just get away and enjoy yourself. Re- 
member old heads on young shoulders are not the 
modern rule! See a bit of life and come back to us *a 
new man!'" "Oh! I'll see life enough in the Rock- 
ies!" laughed Bennett. "By the way," he carelessly 
said, "please have Withers register my address. Every- 
thing to the Southern Hotel, St. Louis! I will tele- 
graph you my arrival there. I may knock around a 
bit first. I have some business of a private nature to 
close up. I may perhaps run over to Washington and 
go out that way ! But I will drop in before I go West, 
if I should be near you here again!" 

"You'll find Withers here all summer in charge of 
Bashford's own affairs," said Bodley. "So just tele- 
graph to him for anything you want. I shall be at 
Newport for a few weeks!" "Miss Ware?" said Ben- 
nett, elevating his eyebrows in well dissembled care- 
less inquiry, as he pointed to the chiefs sanctum. "Oh! 
I think she, too, is going into the country for a long 
stay. Blake tells me that she thinks of leaving us — of 
going West!" said the senior. "A fine woman — ^and 
very much out of her place here !" kindly concluded the 
lawyer. "I must say good-bye, then!" remarked Ben- 
nett with an air of awakened interest. "That's always 
the way with these bright girls — ^they follow on a while 
and then drop oflf one by one ! The truth is, women 
have no stamina for a long struggle, and — home is the 
best place for them!" 

Mr. Seaton Bennett found time to give some voluble 
instructions to Withers, and managed a well-judjged 
public leave taking of the employes generally, which 
included Miss Ware. This little bit of dumb show 
impressed the formerly inquisitive typewriter gossip. 
"There was nothing in that old affair! He doesn't care 
whether she lives or dies!" ruminated the girl, bending 
down over her clicking keys. And so, gaily set forth 
Mr. Seaton Bennett on his summer vacation. "Look 
here, Withers," he called out, returning from the door, 
"keep all my mail here a week and then telegraph to 
the Spottswood House, Baltimore, before you send on 



CHECKED THROUGH. 181 

to the Southern. I'll surely be there in two weeks, 
though — at the Southern." His eyes rested on Made- 
leine Ware as he went out of the door, and in the ten- 
der flash of her wistful eyes, he knew that she would 
meet him at Mamaroneck! 

Sauntering down to the Battery, Mr. Seaton Bennett 
signaled the captain of the "Raven," and after a con- 
ference went swiftly up town to his rooms. "I think I 
have. covered about all!" mused the coming congress- 
man, as he made a toilet with unusual care. He care- 
fully locked away in his dressing valise two singular 
articles oiF very little use to a gentleman sporting in the 
Rocky Mountains. The first was his case of Huy- 
ler's selected "French creams" — and, strangely enough, 
he also took the cigarette case filled with the harmless 
looking white powder which he had stolen from the 
unsuspicious Professor Eckfeldt! "He wont miss it, 
the stupid Dutchy!" laughed Bennett. "He had a 
dozen quart tins of the stuff!" And then Mr. Bennett 
whistled gaily to himself as he drove away to spend a 
parting hour with Mrs. Julie Martyn, ere he kept his 
tryst at Mamaroneck. 

"So, Mr. Eckfeldt is on his way to Montana!" 
laughed Bennett, as Mrs. Julie Martyn greeted him in 
the midst of a knot of busy domestics. The signs of 
the lady's departure were but too evident. "Yes!" 
cheerfully replied the fair widow, as she led her visitor 
to the library. "And I leave for Saratoga to-night! 
Think of anything now that you would say? For — we 
are watched by the masters of the masters, these pry- 
ing servants !*' 

While Bennett pondered the lady unlocked her safe, 
handed him a little packet. "I insist," she gravely 
said. "You know not what accidents may happen, 
and ready money is power! It is the modem *cure 
all,' and it makes man and woman go and come, as well 
as the *mare' we read of! Listen! If I wish to com- 
municate, I will send one of your three fellow candi- 
dates down to the Spottswood House to wait for you! 
Just telegraph to the Schenectady address!" "Can 



182 CHECKED THROUGH. 

you trust to these men?" gloomily said Bennett Julie 
Martyn saw the sullen jealousy of his remark. "Sea- 
ton!" she cried, fixing her eyes bravely upon him. "Do 
not mistake my past! As a girl of seventeen, I was 
forced into all the political intrigues which my hus- 
band guided. I shared his secrets, as a loyal wife 
should! I had to carry on the work he left to me, and 
I have been necessary to the great secret council of 
self-crowned rulers here. A woman's signature — ^a 
woman's bank account — 3, woman's holding the pa- 
pers which none would trust to the jealousy of grasp- 
ing confederates, has saved many a man whom the 
people have raved over here! I have been that woman! 
They all trusted to me! Fear first, confidence next, 
respect always! Millions have been checked in and 
out in my name, and when men feared to use the pen 
themselves, I have done so — for we have been like the 
Three Guardsmen, *One for all, and all for one!' That's 
my whole Hfe mystery! Do you trust me? For, re- 
member, my motto is, *all in all, or not at all!' " 

The lawyer remembered some olden stories of a 
keen woman intellect dominating the council of the 
Manhattan Island Star Chamber, a veiled Egeria, 
to whose grotto the plumed chiefs of Tammany came 
for rest and wisest counsel ! And he remembered, too, 
that all the nerve of a commanding general was attrib- 
uted to the one mysterious woman who wore the 
wampum, and that men bowed to her in reverence and 
respect! 

"Do not mistake me,'' he softly said. "I thought 
only of your safety! These men — " "Have all to lose 
and nothing to gain by betraying me, or secretly fol- 
lowing up my footsteps!" interrupted the widow. Her 
voice was calm, but her blue-veined hands smarted 
under the cutting o£ the jeweled rings of price sinking 
into her clenched fingers! 

"I am yours — ^to the death !" said Bennett, throwing 
his arms around her! "Tell me only what I shall do!" 
"You shall go now, at once, and do not linger! There!" 
she blushingly laughed, "wait till the day after election. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 183 

and then — ^tell me all that you would say now ! I trust 
you to the death P' They parted with a last grip of the 
hands, as when brave men are told off for the forlorn 
hope assault! For they knew that their pathway in 
life was one now — ^to the very death ! 

Seaton Bennett's face was crimsoned, as with nerv- 
ous fingers he opened the packet given him by the 
woman who at seventeen was Queen of the Ring! And 
she had lived on to ripen in beauty and honor, to glow 
now in the early summer of a splendid womanhood, 
while the dethroned czar of the Americus Club slept in 
a felon's grave — and all his princely courtiers of Bel- 
shazzar's house were hunted fugitives or pitiable 
wrecks! There were a hundred new one hundred dol- 
lar bills in the package. It was a sub-treasury enve- 
lope! "By God! She has the heart of a lion — she is 
dead game!" cried Bennett. "For, this money has nev- 
er moved over a counter!'' He recognized the fact 
that his political future was now in hands firmer and 
stronger than his own! And then, with a serene face, 
he hastened away to the New Haven depot. Before 
he caught sight of the villa studded shores of the 
Sound he was assured in his heart that the "cyanide 
process would work!" — ^and he schooled himself to that 
display of calm nerve which had so often fascinated an 
excited jury! He needed all the support of the devil 
nature within him, for when he wandered away from 
the little station at Mamaroneck, there, under a spread- 
ing chestnut, his Greek-browed wife, Madeleine, wait- 
ed, with a veil dimly shading her lovely face, and as 
the ponies sprang away toward their favorite lonely 
drive, she joyously cried: "And now, Seaton, you are 
really mine — ^mine forever! I am all ready for our trip! 
I must go away at once! Mrs. Walton stays a year 
longer, and I have just notified my fellow tenants to 
secure a fourth member in my place!" "What did you 
tell them, darling?" anxiously cried the startled law- 
yer. "I said that I might go over to Europe, or per- 
haps around the world — after I had made some short 
country visits. I have packed up all my heavy bag- 



184 CHECKED THROUGH. 

gage, and have bought a new unmarked trunk, which 
is all ready for our jaunt. No one can trace me!" 

"That's right!" cried Bennett. "I can get you all 
you need later, and we will repack all your luggage in 
a large trunk of mine. In this way no one can follow 
us, until we wish to be relieved of the 'incognito!'" 

Happy Madeleine Bennett soon knew that a giant 
speculation would take him away on a secret quest for 
a short time — but that he had found out a nest where 
she could safely await his return! And, when the 
speculation was successful, they would be at last united 
heart to heart and far away from all prying eyes! 
"Then, dearest, before the world you will be at last my 
openly acknowledged wife!" said Bennett. "For then 
you will neither ruin your own possible future nor my 
legal career by any breach of my professional engage- 
ments !" The birds sang out gaily on the trees as the 
happy wife drove along, stealing shy glances at the 
man whom she loved to honor in her heart! All na- 
ture smiled upon them on this happy day, the Greek- 
browed lady of the splendid eyes and the self-chosen 
lover of her heart ! There was no longer the calm self- 
poised Portia of the past, the woman who yearned to 
hear her voice echoed back under the figurative canopy 
of justice of a crowded court room! It was not the 
pale-cheeked student who gazed now shyly at Seaton 
Bennett! It was a loving woman who had forgotten 
the dreams of the old days of individual ambition! A 
woman in whose heart the song of birds and murmur 
of brooks rippled back in echoes of happy love! The 
answering voice now singing in her heart was the 
awakened note of love, and all her splendid nature 
thrilled to its sweet prelude, for the man she loved 
swept the trembling strings with a master touch! It 
all seemed so simple, so plain, as they drove back to- 
ward the station under the mellow starlight which lov- 
ers love, the lamps lit on high by Dame Nature's tender 
forethought of young life — of first love! "We will be so 
happy — so happy, Seaton!" murmured Madeleine, as 
the shrieking whistle of the coming train warned them 



CHECKED THROUGH. 185 

of the parting moment ! And, as the great light flashed 
out upon them, blinded in the gloom, Madeleine clung 
to him, stealing her arms around him, as his cold lips 
met the rich, full lips of her whom he had sworn to love 
and cherish. "I will be there! I will meet you — and 
we shall never be parted again! My husband!" she 
murmured in a voice which thrilled as sweetly as the 
song of the lonely nightingale! She was now only a 
woman, fond, loving and trembling in the thrill of her 
awakened nature, as she turned her ponies away into 
the leafy lane. "How he loves me!" she gladly whis- 
pered to the listening stars! There was none but the 
listening stars to hear the gentle orphan's pledge to her 
own happy heart! "I will make his life a new one! 
He shall feel the sunlight of love in his heart!" The 
man who sat crouched in the comer of the car shivered 
when he hastened to the ferry side to cross over to 
Long Island City at Thirty-Fourth Street! He walked 
the deck, as a tiger anxious for its prey, till he leaped 
off at the Long Island shore. "Where's Doolan?" he 
hastily demanded of Patsey Casey, who turned a sur- 
prised face upon him. 

"What's wrong with ye. Counselor?" demanded the 
Ganymede. "Here! Try a bit of this ! Ye look as if 
ye had seen a ghost! Doolan's away for a couple of 
weeks! He's up at the club house near Sag Harbor. 
He left this morning!" 

Seaton Bennett moodily threw himself down into a 
chair in an anteroom, and sat half an hour, with his 
eyes gazing into vacancy. "It's too late now," he 
mumbled. "Too late to turn back! *Red Mike' is 
waiting for me now!'' In his heart he heard again the 
echoes of a sweet voice, the voice which had breathed 
those tender words in the parting moments, "We shall 
never be parted any more !" He strode out to the bar, 
and his quick, sharp tones aroused Casey from an ani- 
mated discussion of the merits of "Corbett and Sulli- 
van !" "Tell Doolan that I am sorr}^ not to have seen 
him! I'm going on to Baltimore and out to St. Louis. 
I may take a run into the Rocky Mountains. I will 
write to him from St. Louis." 



186 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"Are ye off?" said Casey, as the lawyer buttoned his 
top coat. "Yes. I take the midnight train for Wash- 
ington. I have thrown my time away! I thought 
Doolan was here!" When he strode out into the night 
Casey said, admiringly: "There's a man! One of the 
rising ones! He'll put M. C. behind his name soon, if 
Tammany knows its business !" 

Seaton Bennett stood a moment irresolute in his 
rooms when he reached the solitary haunt of his later 
bachelor days! He saw his own face in the glass, and, 
with an oath, he then snatched a telegraph blank. 
"There is yet time to stop her!" he muttered, and he 
had added several words to the heading, "Miss Made- 
leine Ware, Mamaroneck," when, as he drew out a 
handkerchief, his hand rested upon the bulky envelope 
of money handed him by Julie Martyn. An electric 
thrill tingled through his nerves! He dropped the pen 
and tore the unfinished dispatch slowly into little bits, 
burning them to ashes. Then, drawing out the pack- 
et, he secured it within his inner vestments. "Too late! 
I've already given Madeleine a thousand dollars of 
this! And she will be waiting for me there!" He 
slipped a gleaming revolver into the breast pocket of 
his top coat, and then, opening his dressing valise care- 
fully, pocketed the still wrapped up cigarette case! He 
remembered what the babbling Eckfeldt had said: 
"You hold twenty lives in your hand with a spoonful of 
this innocent looking powder !" Ringing for the por- 
ter, he gave his whole luggage into his charge. "A 
large carriage, at once, for the Jersey City ferry! I'm 
going to Baltimore and St. Louis!" 

As the man closed the door of the carriage when 
Bennett had turned over his pass keys, the lawyer 
sharply said: "Let no one open my rooms but you. 
I may be away three months!" "And, your letters?" 
quickly cried the porter, as the horses were whipped 
up. "Everything to the Southern Hotel, St. Louis!" 
was the reply, as Bennett closed the door with a crash. 

The Counselor found occasion to linger at a tele- 
graph office near the ferry, and when he emerged in 



CHECKED THROUGH. 187 

the darkened down town limits he sharply cried: 
"Drive to the Astor House ! I'll go on in the morning 
train! I must wait here!" 

But the Jehu had not reached the Tenderloin on his 
way home before a fly-by-night hackman pulled up at 
the door and deposited Bennett's luggage on the yacht 
pier at the South Ferry. The late hour had not pre- 
vented a steam launch from awaiting Bennett's ringing 
hail: "Raven — Halloo!'' and before the day broke the 
black-hulled schooner was dancing on the freshen- 
ing seas far out toward Fire Island! 

The steward stowing Bennett's baggage marveled 
at the formidable looking trunk of ultra-American size, 
covered with labels of every ambitious foreign hotel. 
It bore a clear ear mark in the letters S. B., New York 
City, U. S. A. As the taciturn master of this lonely 
cruise appeared next morning on deck after his soli- 
tary breakfast, the sailing master reported for orders. 
"Just knock about a bit and run over to Montauk 
Point, Captain!" pleasantly remarked Bennett. "I may 
want to run into Sag Harbor, and watch the wires for 
a day or so ! Then, I think, I'll take a run down into 
Chesapeake Bay!" The skipper touched his hat, and 
so left the man of deeds and parchments standing with 
his hawk-like eyes fixed upon the low, sandy shores of 
Long Island, stretching far to the north and east! 

While the "Raven" swept on in storm and sunshine, 
in veering squalls and clinging fogs, Seaton Bennett's 
fancy veered with the pennant at the masthead. For 
before he saw Montauk Point loom up, he had run over 
to Newport and box-hauled around Block Island for 
a day or so. "This is a genuine refresher, Captain," 
he murmured in approval, when he stole away from the 
consideration of some formidable looking papers, ex- 
tracted from his capacious trunk. 

As the saucy "Raven" at last turned her prow toward 
Montauk, a lonely man, tired of wandering in the de- 
serted gardens of Ware Hall, was seated on the very 
bench where the modern Portia had first poured out all 
the ambitions of her untried girlish heart ! Hiram Bash- 



188 CHECKED THROUGH. 

ford's brow was gloomy as he scanned his morning 
mail ! He loved the little arbor which was now haunt- 
ed by memories very dear to his chilled heart! "It is 
strange, strange!" was the chiefs last protest as he 
thrust the letters in his pocket. "Madeleine leaves 
New York without a word to me; only writes to Bod- 
ley to send her mail to Mamaroneck! Flossie Ren- 
wick is left as much in the dark as I am — and then, this 
talk of going abroad ! At any rate, she has sought a 
refuge among strangers for her vacation!" Then a 
sense of crushing defeat came over him, and he sadly 
sought the shelter of the study. For Hiram Bashford 
knew at last that he had lost the confidence of the beau- 
tiful orphan in some strangely unexplained way, and 
he feared that all his plans for her welfare were 
doomed to utter failure! "God help the poor child! 
She has built up a wall around her lonely heart, and I 
must wait till this estrangement comes to an end!" 
Lonely in his own life — he never dreamed that another 
life had been merged with hers — and so he turned sad- 
ly to the books which he had unwillingly brought to 
break the monotony of his self-imposed rest ! He had 
studied all the history of the dreamy little state, ninety- 
six miles long by twenty-two in mean breadth. A sov- 
ereigti loyal slave state, uncorrupted by wealth, un- 
touched by enterprises, whose only metropolis, Wil- 
mington, has but thirty thousand souls, and whose 
"gigantic'* capital, Dover, but two thousand. Its dozen 
or more cities being peopled by five hundred. In the 
sluggish old life before the days of sixty, one man in 
every five was a black slave. The feudal idea was still 
lingering on there, and there slavery died a kindly, 
natural death! While vast Western state sovereign- 
ties have leaped into a feverish life, Delaware's non- 
migrating sons have pursued the even tenor of their 
sluggish way! The foreigner here makes only the 
thirteenth of the baker's dozen, and yet one man in 
every six did not write in 1870, and one in every five 
was powerless to read! "I can see why Philip Ware 
rusted to death here, mentally," mused Bashford. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 189 

"There's too much Nirvana in this peach-blossomed 
land I The friction which poKshes man against his 
fellows is wanting! It is a death in life!" The lawyer 
had curiously peeped at the little out of the way tract 
of level sandy plains with the few dales and scanty 
pine tracts fringing its lagoons, and its one great 
marsh. Without mountains, great rivers or natural 
mineral wealth — the idle people were as innocent of 
crime as of purse-proud wealth or electric enterprise! 
It seemed to be only the unambitious life of the human 
oyster! "Ah! Madeleine!" mused Bashford. "Your 
bright ten talents would have been hidden here for- 
ever!" He understood the spiritual urging at last 
which drove the proud girl to face all the dangers of 
New Yoric's maelstrom! Heredity and environment 
easily explained the peaceful character of the aborigi- 
nal Renappi — Lenno Lenape, or Lenapes — who long 
suffered that ancient taunt, "the Delawares are 
women!" For both the excitements of war and the 
chase were denied them, till Hendrik Hudson, in 1609, 
came with his ancient ark to bring in the reign of 
"rum and powder!" Pushed west, after a vain resist- 
ance to the whites, the suflFering Delawares sadly 
learned the art of war, and, in a great semicircular path, 
have been driven, fighting their way against the Six 
Nations, the Sioux and Chippewas, to mingle at last 
in the unknown fragmentary tribes withering slowly 
away in the Indian Territory. And even their birthT 
place has forgotten them ! 

Bashford pored over the old records of Godyer and 
De Vries settlement in 1629 and 1630, for the Dutch 
West Indian Company; after Lord De la Ware had 
lightly touched the shores of Delaware Bay in 1610. 
The one resentful dash of the Indians in 1633 laid the 
first stockaded homes in ashes, and the brave Swedes 
and Finns, nothing daunted, in 1637, sailed up Chris- 
tiana Creek to found Nya Svenga, the only Swedish 
settlement in America, following the path of the shad- 
owy Vikings! Bashford threaded the quarrels of the 



190 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Swedes and Dutch till the Swedes were driven back 
to Tinicum Island, below the site of Philadelphia. 

The mimic war at Fort Casimir saw the Swedish flag 
succeed the Dutch — and then, from New Amsterdam, 
the hardy Hollanders attacked New Castle, and, later, 
deported the conquered Swedes to Europe, their flag 
leaving our shores forever! But blood-red English 
flags floated on the ships which the Duke of York sent 
to proclaim English law, backed by English cannon, 
along the Delaware in 1664! Lord Baltimore, tempor- 
ally grasping — if spiritually sweet — ^reached over from 
Maryland and claimed the land up to 40° N. The sly 
William Penn quickly followed his "spiritual" brother's 
lead, and bought from the Duke of York, making his 
own stronghold at New Castle. When the Lords of 
Trade and Plantations decided for the lucky quaker 
— Delaware, for twenty years, was Pennsylvania, 
for the Pennsylvanians then, as now, wanted the 
earth, and what is under and over it. Out 
of this huddle the three historic counties of New 
Castle, Kent and Sussex crystallized into the lit- 
tle state of Delaware, destined to throw off the 
yoke of Britain later! This pig^^y state was the 
very first to ratify the Constitution, on December 
7, 1787, and to adopt its own proud state seal, "Liberty 
and Independence !'' And the old lawyer read in these 
olden chronicles of the proud record of the Wares of 
Delaware. Alas! There was nothing left to carry 
the old line on further now but the brave-hearted girl 
who had sought "Liberty and Independence^' alone in 
that great theatre of mind. New York City! "What 
can be her secret designs?" anxiously mused her es- 
tranged protector, as he laid down his books and paced 
the old library in anxious introspection. He gazed 
around in the silence at the dismantled room where 
Philip Ware had told him the story of his forebodings. 
The very bare walls seemed eloquent of the disasters 
following the old line, for the faces of the colonial 
dames and county magnates were gone forever from 
the time-darkened wainscot! A noiseless servant glid- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 191 

ed in with letters. The first, a few lines from Made- 
leine, without date or address, simply told him that she 
was going into the country for change and rest! 

The concluding clause disturbed him. "As I may 
travel for some weeks, please send any letters to 
Mamaroneck!" There was no sign of her real pur- 
poses, nothing to indicate her feelings, save the firmly 
traced signature, "Faithfully and gratefully, yours, 
Madeleine." She had not even written Madeleine 
Ware! With feverish haste he tore open a note from 
the lady of Castle Atwater. 

"Madeleine has quite curtly refused my pressing in- 
vitation for a visit, simply saying that she has other 
plans, of a business nature, and has left Mamaroneck 
to travel. But she does not say where! Can you not 
come over and see me? I fear that there may be some- 
thing wrong!" 

"Something wrong! Something wrong! It is all 
wrong!" cried Hiram Bashford, in his misery. "She has 
flatly refused any more money for this year's legal ser- 
vices, saying that I have overpaid her already — ^and, 
now, she goes off at a tangent on some mysterious new 
plan of self-sacrifice or of oblivion hunting! Yes! I 
have ruined all!" In a bitter self-accusation for rough- 
ly pressing his hand and fortune on the friendless or- 
phan, Hiram Bashford at last rightly measured her 
stubborn pride, that sad, bitter pride, bom of depend- 
ence. "Damn it all ! I'll go to Europe, and stay there, 
till she needs me! Or — ^till I am driven back to my 
work !" He, too, now felt the reaction of the lethargy 
induced by the dreamy quiet of the sleeping state! With 
characteristic promptness he sought counsel of 
Madame Flossie, and in three days he saw Fire Island's 
shores fade behind him in the gray fog. His last brief 
injunction to Florence Atwater was forced from him by 
1 vague unrest as to Madeleine Ware's real purposes. 
'*Do everything possible for her in my absence! Use 
my name, my old friendship, my money, as you will, 
and if aught is wrong, cable to me at once. My people 
will instantly obey any wish of yours. I shall confide 



192 CHECKED THROUGH. 

in Bodley only. He's a family man, and he will under- 
stand me. I have lost the golden thread. You, dear 
one, may catch it up again. If anyone ever gains her 
heart confidence again, it will be you alone." And so 
he had gone sadly away to wander over Europe, an 
aimless man, shrouded in sorrows and vain regrets. 
For all the victories of his busy life were naught to him 
now. 

It was the very sweetest face that ever had smiled 
out upon the shores of Greenpoint which greeted Mrs. 
Jane Coming, whose cosy parlor bedroom was 
timidly offered to the "summer boarder" by a modest 
handbill in her window. Captain Coming's little home 
by the beach was perched upon a sandy knoll, a mile 
or more to the east of the railroad station, at the very 
northeast end of Long Island. The hardy flowers of the 
little garden, the good wife's pride, delighted the am- 
phibious partner of her bosom. For, when the Men- 
haden came. Captain Coming sallied forth in his steam 
fishing boat lor the annual harvest. Mrs. Jane Com- 
ing^s cottage commanded a splendid outlook of Great 
Peconic, Little Peconic and Gardiner's Bay. The mod- 
est tourist, aflfrighted by the lengthened bills, long- 
drawn out, of the great fashionable hotels on Shelter 
Island, came in the time of the hunting and shell fish 
season to bathe and frolic along this pine-clad sandy 
spot. Mrs. Coming's house was the very neatest in all 
the long-drawn-out settlement toward the east. The 
good lady could see her husband's white sail glittering 
homeward, and well she knew also the signals of every- 
one of the dainty yachts dancing there on the blue 
water. There was a warm welcome at the cottage for 
the beautiful "stranger lady" who wished "quiet and 
rest for a few days." Madeleine Ware was secretly 
awaiting the arrival of her lord from the misty waters 
of the great deep, and, true to her promise, was anx- 
iously scanning the blue waters of Peconic Bay long 
before the "Raven" stole in from Montauk Point. The 
little village, with its tree-bowered cottages, its Brook- 
lyn delegation of modest tourists, its busy foundries, 



CHECKED THROUGH. 193 

oil works and fish houses, had no attraction for the 
stately woman who paced the sands alone and seemed 
wrapped up in the brooding calm of the golden summer 
days. Good Mrs. Jane Coming's deft village curiosity 
was foiled by the modest reserve of the beautiful 
woman, whose personal belongings indicated a refine- 
ment far above all past experience of the little home, 
placed far away from the prying eyes of the gossipy vil- 
lagers. A single trunk, without label or letters, and a 
few portable articles of luggage, made up the slender 
outfit of the strangely beautiful woman, who seemed 
to be glad of this peaceful haven, where the distant 
panorama of the flitting sails alone varied the un- 
eventful days. The fishing captain was away out on 
the deep, and Mrs. Corning often pondered alone over 
the character of her beautiful bird of passage. Whether 
maid, wife or widow, the landlady could not divine. 
The visitor seemed to her to be either a "theater lady" 
seeking retirement, perhaps a literary woman, or a 
principal of some fashionable seminary, stolen away to 
listen there to the wild waves, always singing the same 
old song. That no letters or visitors attested any 
claims of the outer world still further enhanced a 
growing mystery, and all Mrs. Coming's tentative in- 
quiries met with a dignified but gentle resistance. 
Neither the arrival of New York, nor the New London 
daily steamer, attracted the fair guest's attention, nor 
did she haunt the railway depot. "Her right place would 
be the Manhassett House," mused the landlady. "She 
can't be poor." For, though no wedding ring graced 
the slender hand, Mrs. Corning marked the splendid 
square sapphire and the two great flashing diamonds, 
well worth a year's catch of her husband's busy nets. 
"She's the sweetest thing I ever saw in Suffolk County," 
mused Mrs. Coming, when she followed the carriage 
with admiring eyes as this mysterious visitor suddenly 
departed, as quietly as she had arrived. "I hope you've 
been satisfied," said the sailor's wife, wiping her hands 
on her apron to receive a crisp new twenty dollar bill. 
"Be you goin' to the Manhassett?" For the good 



194 CHECKED THROUGH. 

woman well knew it was neither boat nor train time, 
when the lumbering old country carriage was loaded 
up with the lady's trunk and belongings. 

"I have finished my little play spell," smiled Made- 
leine Ware, with a gentle evasion. Her heart was beat- 
ing in a delightful anticipation, for an hour before she 
had marked the coming white sails of a splendid 
schooner yacht driving along with a large American 
flag flying gaily at her foremast. The dandified 
yachtsmen gazing at the craft laughed at this lubber 
who carried the national ensign at his foremast. But 
to one who watched the graceful boat swing around 
and come daintily up as the anchor chain ran out, and 
the sails rattled down, that fluttering flag was the 
signal of a new life. The pledge of one whom her lov- 
ing heart leaped up now to welcome with its royal first 
love. The streets of the pretty little town were filled 
with knots of merry summer loiterers as the carriage 
toiled along over the sandy roads leading to the 
steamer wharf. 

"You've missed to-day's boat, Madame," said the 
Jehu, as he shouldered Madeleine's trunk and de- 
posited her parcels in the waiting room. 

The stars only gleamed upon the darkened waters 
as a couple of sturdy sailors bore the lady's luggage, 
four hours later, to a waiting cutter. Madeleine was 
deeply veiled to baffle the night fog, and the steamer 
porter only looked at the two dollar bill he thankfully 
received. Already the swift cutter was dashing away 
far over the waters of the tranquil bay when breathless 
Mrs. Corning appeared with a small portmanteau in 
her hand. 

"Very sorry, mum. Can't tell you nothin'. There's 
fifty yachts now layin' here, and their boats swarm 
around like porpoises. You'll have to wait till to-mor- 
row to find her. Maybe she'll remember and send 
back for it. She was a real lady, for she gave me a 
two dollar bill," said the thankful trunk smasher. 

And Mrs. Jane Corning, long days after, waited in 
vain, for the sweet-faced woman never came back. Her 



CHECKED THROUGH. 195 

slender hand never again unfastened the lock of the 
Dortmanteau left behind in her hasty flitting. 

For the black-hulled "Raven" was now far away, 
dashing over the star-lit waters, driving on under full 
sail, to where Sag Harbor clings to the shelter of 
bleak Montauk Point, fencing off the wild Atlantic 
Dillows. 

When Seaton Bennett handed the veiled lady over 
the side of the "Raven" there was no one of the clus- 
tering crew who saw aught but the graceful form of a 
stately woman, a tall daughter of the gods. Bennett's 
curt order, "Get under way," caused them to spring to 
their posts, and the swinging cabin lamps only lit up 
with their soft radiance the husband and wife, whose 
eyes Idoked love into each other's burning glances 
after all these anxious days of watching. 

Madeleine Ware was Madeleine Bennett at last ! For 
were they not alone, out on the starry sea, and with 
only the gentle ripple of the dancing waves keeping 
tune to their beating hearts. The beautiful orphan 
laughed happily as the lover husband told her of the 
safe retreat which he had found. "A perfect love in 
idleness. I chanced on it by a mere accident, and you 
shall there have time to tell me all you wish, to frame 
every future plan, while I leave you only for a few 
days to watch this giant speculation. If it comes out 
right, then our fortune is nearer than I ever dared be- 
fore to hope — fame we will work for together." 

Madeleine listened to all these words of love and 
cheer, and it seemed as if some subtle spirit of fire and 
flame had transfigured her at last into a glowing 
Venus. For this night, he was all her own! There was 
no world to vex them, no haunting cares near, no 
clinging shadows over the rosy future. And the present 
was so royal in its loosening of the love swelling up in 
her noble wifely heart. 

"Seaton," she whispered, as they sped along past the 
gleaming lights of Shelter Island. They were watching 
the golden sparkling phosphor waves break in showers 
of light and fade away behind them in the foamy vvake.. 



196 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"There is but one who must know of my happiness. 
But one, in the wide world. Florence Renwick is the 
one who once shared my every thought. You have 
my whole heart, but I must tell her, only her, how 
happy I am." 

Bennett's voice was tender as he said, "You shall 
write to-morrow. I will mail the letter, for I send the 
yacht away when we land. Only remember your 
promise. We are incognito till I return. Then all will 
be as you wish. But I must not be traced till I have 
watched the great speculation. After that the whole 
world is ours to choose from." 

And so there was not a shadow on her happiness 
as they were rowed away in the night to the sleeping 
shores of the Sag Harbor village. 

In a covered carriage, followed by a heavy wagon 
with their luggage, the runaway married lovers drove 
smartly away along the sandy shores toward the 
lonely reaches of Montauk Point. The "Raven" had 
even then flitted away far out toward the coming day- 
break, when Seaton Bennett, at last, awakened his 
sleeping wife by kissing her drooping eyelids. 

"Here we are, darling. It is the end of the journey, 
and you are at home/' 

The happy woman's slumber laden eyes closed in a 
quaintly furnished old sleeping chamber, where a 
brightly flaming fire of pine logs threw a cheerful radi- 
ance into the dusky comers. 

"I must see to our effects," whispered Bennett, 
whose tired wife had murmured, "I am so happy, Sea- 
ton, to be here with you — at last." 

There was no one waiting for the master of this 
Castle Lonesome below but the stalwart "Red Mike." 
He was now clad in rough attire and no diamond 
blazed from his bosom as of yore. Doolan led Seaton 
Bennett into a little room, where food and drink was 
set out upon a butler's table. He then carefully closed 
and locked two doors, cutting off the upper portion 
of the lonely house. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 197 

"Pve sent the boy back to the town, and h€ has seen 
nothing/' gruffly began Doolan. 

"Who's here beside yourself?" was Seaton's anxious 
query. 

"No one but the old Shinnecock Indian woman 
cook. She can get you up a pretty fair meal, and TU 
serve it. Will you be here long?" 

"Not long," curtly replied Bennett, starting up as the 
night wind drove the splash of a sudden rainstorm in 
rattling g^sts against the windows. "Does the old 
woman speak English?" the lawyer questioned, avoid- 
ing Doolan's eyes. 

"Only a bit of Indian jargon," roughly replied Mike. 
"And, when not at her work she's always half drunk. 
The boys call her 'Crazy Ann.' " 

"Is there anyone in the other house?" timidly de- 
manded Bennett. 

"Not a soul," replied Mike. "Ifs locked and the 
windows are all boarded up. The last of the old family 
are in Europe, two minor children being educated. No 
one ever comes here. This place only has a prospective 
value if Austin Corbin ever realizes his dream of an 
ocean line from Montauk Point to Europe." 

The two men gazed at each other in a meaning 
silence, and Doolan sullenly took a three-fingered 
dram. "Where's the yacht?" he hoarsely whispered. 

"Off for her mooring at the Battery to await orders," 
Bennett sighed in relief, as Doolan growled, "I'll turn 
in. When do you intend to leave?'' 

'Oh, in a few days," uneasily replied Bennett. 

T've got to be back in Long Island City by a week 
from to-day," energetically said Doolan, as he handed 
the lawyer a bedroom candle. "I've a damned lawsuit 
coming on there." 

"That will be all right," slowly said Bennett, as 
their eyes met. "She's coming round and I think I 
can buy her off." 

"The best way," grunted Doolan as he disappeared. 

Bennett then climbed the stairway and softly locked 
the door of a room adjoining the chamber where his 



"( 



198 CHECKED THROUGH. 

happy wife now slept the dreamless sleep of innocence. 
He laid a loaded revolver beside his candle on the 
table. *7ust as well to have no accidents/' he mused. 
"I'll fool them all. Doolan will never know that the 
yacht will wait for me at Cape May. Then, once there, 
a straight run for the Rockies!" 

In five minutes, the lonely old house by the lagoon 
was wrapped in silence and darkness. 



CHAPTER X. 

BUSSING! 

The morning sun gleamed over the roughened green 
waves of the mist-covered waters of the bay with a red- 
dish glare and lit up the long sand paths stretching 
out, gray and gaunt, with their straggling patches of 
scattered pines. 

Gull and curlew screamed wildly, flapping along 
over the smooth surface of the lonely lagoon, where 
two dreary looking old stone houses seemed to ac- 
centuate each other's isolation from a busy world. A 
far away flitting white sail alone was visible to sweet 
Madeleine Bennett as she drew back the curtains of 
her room late on the morning after her strange night 
ride. 

It seemed to be all a dream. The faded glories of 
the solid old abode, the quaint belongings of the vast 
room, and even the eerie face of the old Indian woman 
who clattered in and silently trimmed the fire. The 
loving morning greeting of her handsome husband 
alone dispelled the illusion that she had wandered 
away into another world. 

Seated at a cosy breakfast table, set out in the vast 
old dining room on the first floor, Seaton Bennett, 
with an amused interest, told her all the story of the 



CHECKED THROUGH. 199 

very smallest village in the world. "When you have 
had a look over the old place you will understand its 
romantic charm. These two houses were built after 
the War of 1812 by two brothers of an old colonial 
family, who had once a splendid manorial homestead 
cm Gardiner's Island over there." He pointed through 
the diamonded window to the far blue shore hovering 
faintly far out at sea. "They often came here to enjoy 
the hunting and fishing, offering them rare sport 
These two old mansions are soHd and time-defying, 
and I legally control the estate, for there are only some 
absent infant heirs to represent the old line. Pll have 
a pretty sailboat sent up here and take you up to Mon- 
tauk and then over to Gardiner's Island. It's too shal- 
low for the yacht here. There's a nice carriage and 
two horses. My man will drive you around daily and 
I'll also send you a good maid up here. Be sure that 
you tell her nothing," 

Madeleine smiled as she poured out the tea. "Trust 
to me a little longer. You have trusted me so long," 
was her happy reply. 

"The old Gardiner family bought the island out there 
and a vast tract here from the Shinnecock Indians as 
cheaply as the sainted William Penn and the thrifty 
Dutch got their lands," laughed Bennett, who was in 
the very highest spirits. "They used these two man- 
sions when they came over from Gardiner's Island to 
attend the routs and festivals of the hospitable gentry 
further down Long Island, and here they held high 
revel. There's the old boat landing and fire beacon 
where they often signalled for their boat and called 
their retainers over from Gardiner's Island with a pillar 
of fire by night and a column of smoke by day. We'll 
go the rounds. Can you be content here for a couple 
of weeks? The man will bring you all the papers and 
any needed supplies from town, and I'm sending them 
into the village (the butler and cook) for marketing 
to-day. Do you wish anything?'* 

"I shall be busy enough with my first voyage of dis- 



200 CHECKED THROUGH. 

covery and all my unpacking," answered Madeleine. 
"When must you go away, Seaton?" 

Her husband^s voice trembled as he said, "If I can 
make you comfortable, I will leave to-morrow morning 
early. I have to drive some twenty miles to the train. 
I will only take a portmanteau with me, and the man 
will bring you back anything you wish from Sag Har- 
bor.'' 

They had wandered out and roved over the deserted 
tiny village of two houses and stood together at the old 
beacon which gave the quaint name of Fireplace to 
the diminutive hamlet. 

"I am a little chilly. Let us go in," said Madeleine. 
"We have measured out all our possessions, and I 
must now begin my 'first housekeeping.' You will be 
surprised with the first list of articles 'indispensable 
to your wife.' " 

He fondly kissed her rosy lips and they wandered 
back, arm in arm, to the lone house by the lagoon. 

"I have some letters to write," said the lover-hus- 
band, as Madeleine directed the Indian woman in the 
unstrapping of her trunk and the disposition of her 
luggage. "If you will now write your letter to Mrs. 
Renwick I can mail it at Sag Harbor." 

"Ah, I'll not forget Florence," cried Madeleine Ben- 
nett, as she hastened the temporary arrangement of her 
effects. 

Happy Madeleine Bennett, with all the freedom of 
an escaped school girl, had ransacked the old mansion 
from attic to cellar long before her husband had ar- 
ranged his "important correspondence." She had 
timidly peeped often in to see him seated with the 
papers from his opened trunk scattered over a writing 
table drawn up by the window. Her own little trous- 
seau de voyage was now all in order and the creaking 
doors of the old mahogany presses received her sim- 
ple traveling finery. A sudden annoyance brought a 
shade to her face when the light-hearted wife discov- 
ered the loss of one of her portmanteaus. She stole 
back to the door of Seaton Bennett's room on tip-toe. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 201 

'I'll not annoy him now about this trifling loss. He is 
working — ^working for me," she proudly remembered, 
and she stole back, with the smile of an angel on her 
glowing face. "I am so glad that I took my letters and 
my wedding ring out," she mused, as she shaded her 
happy face from the dancing flames of the pine logs 
with her rosy palms. There on the marriage finger now 
gleamed the plain golden band with the initials and the 
date of that simple wedding in far away Magnolia. *1 
can easily write to Mrs. Coming," she thought, as she 
vaguely tried to recall the composition of the contents 
of the missing bag. "Better not,'' she decided, "not 
till Seaton returns and all is safe." Then, with a sud- 
den inspiration, she sat down and wrote a few loving 
lines to that unforgotten heart comrade, "Mrs. Flor- 
ence Renwick." "Dear Flossie,'' mused Madeleine 
Bennett, as she vainly searched for her wax and seal. 
"She will know how happy I am, and that she is the 
first, the very first, to know all." Then she remembered 
that her seal and other furnishings were in the missiing 
bag. "I will give this to Seaton," she decided, but sank 
back into a chair, for she well knew the man and the 
old Indian servitor had departed for the distant town 
of Sag Harbor. "How happy I am! How happy!" 
she murmured as she sat there with the fire-light 
gleaming on her fair young face, while outside the fresh 
gale rattled the shutters of the massive old homestead. 
She could hear her husband now pacing his room with 
quick, manly strides. "He is studying, planning, striv- 
ing for me," she proudly thought, and then Seaton Ben- 
nett's words came to her. "One last struggle for for- 
tune and then the whole world is ours." The days of 
her happy girlhood drifted by, brought back to memory 
with the long years of aspiration and struggle, the 
storm cloud of death and ruin lowering over the old 
home by the Delaware, Shearer's villainy, her father's 
untimely death, and all of Hiram Bashford's unselfish 
kindness. "It is a strange, strange world," she sighed, 
is she called up the ambitious dreams of the modem 
Portia. "I must write to Hiram Bashford. I must 



202 CHECKED THROUGH. 

tell him that I have found at last the woman's kingdom; 
that its name is home; that its compass is a husband's 
heart/' Her proud head was bowed as she smilingly 
murmured, "Love is enough. Yes, love is enough," 
and, thinking of the man whose strong arms now 
fenced her from the whole world, she softly said to her- 
self, smiling as she listened to his echoing footsteps, 
"Whither thou goest, I will go, and thy people shall be 
my people." 

Seaton Bennett had concluded an hour's final inves- 
tigation of the Cyanide process, when he came re- 
luctantly from his room, summoned to a collation by 
his merry wife. "I had only the tea to make. You have 
been working and the servants may be late for din- 
ner. It is a long drive over to the town, you tell me " 
While they sat alone in the old house, haunted with 
all its memories of vanished generations, of fresh hearts 
that had failed long years before, Bennett's pale face 
and monosyllabic answers alarmed the matron of a 
day. "You have tired yourself with your study, with 
your writing incessantly," said Madeleine, as they wan- 
dered back to the upper story, with its cheerful furnish- 
ings and picturesque glimpses of the varied shores 
fringing the silent lagoon. 

"Here is the letter for Florence Renwick," said Mad- 
eleine, as she emerged from her own apartment "Do 
not forget to mail it to-morrow when you go to the 
city." 

Bennett took the letter in silence and placed it with 
care in his pocketbook. He came out of his room, hat 
and top coat in hand. "I'll try a little exercise, a walk by 
the beach," he said, turning his eyes away to where the 
afternoon shadows now lay darkly to the east behind 
the scattered sand dunes. "I forgot," he said, "I had 
brought you some bon bons." 

Madeleine Bennett took the little packet and then 
waved him a laughing adieu as he turned when twenty 
paces from the great hall door. 

Seaton Bennett stood there with his limbs trembling 
under him as he gazed out to the west and saw a black 



CHECKED THROUGH. 203 

Speck a league away crawling down the lean-ribbed 
sands toward the mimic town of Fireplace. "It is the 
team coming back," he faltered with pallid lips, and 
then he slowly turned toward the old stone house 
where he had left the woman whom he had sworn to 
love, honor and cherish till death should part them! 
He dared not retrace his steps. He feared to go for- 
ward. His heart smote him, and he covered his eyes 
with his hands as a single, faint, agonizing cry reached 
his ears. For, an upper window had been hastily flung 
open and the husband had seen for one awful moment, 
a white-robed form there at the window of his own 
room. 

And then all was still but the wailing of the winds 
whistKng by and the beating of his own agonized heart. 
He was rooted to the spot, and the fear of discovery 
alone made him crawl toward the house, as he could 
see a few hundred yards away the wagon returning. 
There was but one form now on the box seat. The old 
Indian woman was not there. With the frantic haste of 
a Cain, Seaton Bennett dashed back into the deserted 
house and glided up the old oaken stairs. There was 
no sound, no loving voice to welcome him. He called 
out, and his voice echoed like the wail of a wild beast 
in distress. Silence! Silence! 

And there, with a palsied heart, he listened to the 
echo of his own inarticulate cry and the hollow ticking 
of an old clock. He dashed into the room whence his 
girl wife had staggered to the window, in a last appeal 
for help. The room was vacant and the fire-light now 
played upon the hearth in merry mockery. 

There on the table was the dainty little French bon 
bon case from Huyler's. The case which had been 
packed up with the cigarette box which he had hidden 
for weeks from all men's sight. The lid was raised and 
two or three of the first layer bon bons were missing. 
With a swift movement, he hurled the little box into 
the heart of the fierce fire blazing there on the old 
hearth. He glared around like a hunted beast at bay. 

The rattling of wheels at a distance now sounded ou 



204 ^ CHECKED THROUGH. 

his ears from below, for the great door was swung wide 
open. Bennett paused, white-faced, a moment at the 
door of his own room and then, one glance within, sent 
him forth, shuddering in a horrible reaction of fear and 
remorse. For, prone upon the floor of his room, lay 
something still and with outspread arms, the fingers 
still clutching at the carpet beneath. 

There was nothing left of Madeleine Ware — ^beauti- 
ful Madeleine Bennett, the wife of two happy days, but 
the majestic memory of her inviolate womanhood, the 
dying thrill of her wifely love, and that marble-faced 
shell of rarest mould, whence the loving spirit had fled 
forever. It was done! 

There was a devil, a grinning Moloch, in the silent 
recesses of the cowardly scoundrel's heart that echoed 
back a hollow groan in grinning mockery, "The Cyan- 
ide process is a success." 

For, while he could still hear her bosom heaving in 
love's fondest sighs, the man who saw beyond the 
river of Death the gleaming marble Capitol arise had 
deftly introduced the white powder stolen from the in- 
nocent metallurgist into the upper layers of the sweet 
meats. 

Seaton Bennett, tiger-like fiend, and coward at heart, 
could only cry out as Red Mike drove up alone, "Don't 
go in there ! Wait for me ! There's been a terrible hap- 
pening." 

"What is it?" yelled the startled rascal, bringing the 
horses up with a jerk, throwing them on their 
haunches, and jamming the brake on hard. 

"She's in there; it's all over, I fear. Heart disease! 
I am afraid!" faltered Seaton Bennett, turning his 
head away. 

"Good God !" yelled Doolan, springing from his seat 
and grappling Bennett as he alighted in the soft sand 
at the side of the cowardly murderer. "What's this? 
Have you killed the poor girl?" And the gleam of a 
revolver barrel shone before Bennett's staring eyes. 
"Walk in there before me," sternly said Doolan. "Move 
quick, or I'll blow your damned head oflf! Fm not 



CHECKED THROUGH. 205 

going to hang for the likes of you." And up the silent 
hallway the frightened rounder forced the shivering 
vUlain who had so deftly "fooled them all." "Where 
is she?" demanded Doolan, who had locked the great 
front hall door and pocketed the key. Bennett mutely 
pointed to the door of his own room as they stood at 
the head of the stairs. Red Mike pushed the cringing 
villain into the room, whence his trusting wife had 
only come forth to die alone, with his name on her lov- 
ing lips. After a few moments, the saloonkeeper strode 
back into the wife's apartment. He dragged the 
shrinking lawyer by main force into the front room. 
There on the one couch was something which looked 
like a sleeping queen in marble, lying there with her 
folded hands crossed upon her pulseless heart. There 
was a napkin veiling the lovely face, now grown 
waxen in death. 'There's your work, and TU not lose 
you from sight,*' sternly cried the frightened Irishman. 
"Maybe we'll both hang for this." 

The burly Celt had picked up Bennett's own pistol 
from the table and he now had a weapon in each hand, 
as he demanded: "Now, give me your living story." 

It was an agony for the scoundrel husband to force 
his words through his chattering teeth. "I was away 
walking. It was a sudden seizure! I found the door 
open, and I then rushed out to meet you. It happened 
while I was out." 

Doolan gazed doubtingly as the villain fought for 
his life. 

"Where is the Indian woman?" babbled Bennett. 

"Dead drunk at the village, thank God !" cried Red 
Mike, as he rose and thrust Bennett into Madeleine's 
vacant room. "If you move. Til butcher you!" he 
growled as he stood on the hallway landing, where he 
could see them both, the living husband and the dead 
wife, queenly in the majesty of her self-sacrifice. -'Was 
she your wife?" demanded Doolan. 

The bowed figure cowering before him quivered as 
Bennett shook his head. 

"God rest her soul. She had a lovely face!" mut- 



m 

V 



1 

11. 



206 CHECKED THROUGH. 

tered the repentant Irishman. "Is there anyone to miss f 
this poor girl?" suddenly said Doolan, as a fishing boat p 
darted up to the old beacon landing, in plain view. F 
"Here's a boat coming up to the old wharf." 

"No one/' cried Seaton Bennett, starting up in a wild 
alarm. "My God, Doolan! We must get out of 
this.'' 

The excited Irishman was already peering out of the 
hall window, and he sprang to the door where the | 
murdered wife lay, locking it and pocketing the key. 
"Come down here and watch the front door, Bennett," 
he sternly said. "Our lives depend on it Yours, ^ 
anyway," he grimly finished. 

The cowardly murderer sneaked down stairs after 
Red Mike. At the door he whined, "Give me one of 
the pistols," as he caught Red Mike's arm. \ 

"Never, you fool!" was the rough answer. "Stand 
in there, with the door locked, till I hail ye. I'll get 
these men away." 

"For God's sake, don't leave me alone here — ^with 
her," faltered Bennett 

The strong man cast him off and then strode down 
along the sandy footpath, for the strangers were already 
within a hundred yards. Red Mike's burly form and 
harsh voice soon impressed the two castaway amateur 
fishermen. "There's nothing here to eat and no sup- 
plies," he bluntly said. "I'm looking at this old place 
with a view to purchase. Ye'd better make for Sag 
Harbor." 

"But there's a fire in there; we might rest and warm 
ourselves," pleaded one of the city castaways. 

"That's none of your business," truculently 
answered Doolan. "I've strict orders from the agents 
to let no one enter the premises." While Doolan 
watched the crestfallen men embark he keenly revolved 
every side of the situation. "I could never prove it on 
him. Maybe it'll blow over. But, I'll keep a deadly 
hold over the scoundrel. There's been some dark 
business done here." 

Before Mike commanded the opening of the door he 



CHECKED THROUGH. 207 

5 way to Kft the mortgage which had hung over 
palace for several weary years. He motioned 

t into the dining room, where the vacant chair 

head of the table still spoke of the hapless or- 
girl. **Not there," shrinkingly cried Bennett. 

ur own room," and he sneaked into Doolan's 

:en to me," cried Mike. "Yer a fool. YeVe no 
od. We have both got to get out of here, 
your plan?" 

)n Bennett had already conned over his chances 
pe. **Let us go out and release and feed the 
Then I can drive down to Sag Harbor and 
DU here. I can send the team back by the boy — 
)y — ^the one you brought to help you. You can 
eady when he comes back. I will get right out 
ito the Rockies. You can go home to-morrow 
one ever will know." 

ferret eyes of Red Mike gleamed out fiercely as 
, "And, ye cur, ye leave this whole aflfair on my 
ilone." 

en, Doolan," pleaded Bennett. "I must get away 
fe, to be out at St. Louis, to telegraph back from 
It will save you. No one saw us come here in 
ht, no one on the yacht even saw the girl. And 
:ht's now at anchor off the Battery at New 
.nd the crew are all dismissed on leave for two 
». ril stand by you forever." 
at am I to do left alone here?" grimly demanded 
ike. 

)n Bennett drew him to a window. He whis- 
"To-night you must hide it forever out there in 
the sand ravines. The wind blows tons of sand 
the lowest side yearly. It'll never be found." 
Ian mixed a glass of grog and then lit a cigpr. 
he trunks, all yer things?" he growled, 
•n all of her things, even the trunk," whispered 
fty Bennett, "and pile all of my things, every 
nto my big trunk. I left it half empty so that 
rgage could go in there. I was going to take 



208 CHECKED THROUGH. 

her out West, I was, so help me Grod! But, she was 
willing to take money and go to Europe. I can prove 
it," pleaded Bennett "I brought the money along. I 
never meant her any harm, Mike. We must stick to- 
gether. Think of the election, of the Congressional 
fight. There's big money ahead for you." 

"Yer a pretty Congressman, ye damned sneak," 
growled Doolan. "I'm sorry to see Mrs. Martyn loaded 
down with ye. But we're in the same boat There's 
two of us in it Now, harken, Bennett Ye know well 
Fm a high man of the Clan Na Gael. Ill save yer dirty 
life, to save my own. I may clear this thing up and 
run over to Ireland for a couple of months, tfll the 
thing blows over. I can do some work for The Cause 
there. Now, answer me truly! If ye lie to me, yer | 
not safe in any comer of the world. D'ye remember \ 
what became of Cronin out at Chicago? What money h 
have ye with ye? Ye brought some for the girl, ye Jii 
say?" i 

"I can give you five thousand dollars," earnestly 
pleaded Bennett, "and she had a thousand in her pos- 
session that I gave her ten days ago." 

"I'll not rob the dead," gloomily replied Red Mike, j 
"It's only to save my own neck 111 touch that poor j 
lonely girl, and, as God is my judge, I'll treat her as if 
she were my sister. You can give me a check for ten .j 
thousand dollars besides, dated St. Louis, two weeks jj, 
from now. From there ye can write back to yer bank 
to certify it for me. I'll pay that down on my mortgage, ij 
It'll look like regular business, and I can give ye a re- t 
ceipt for a loan any time, to cover all our tracks." i 

"And you will do all, then, and let me go?'' joyously ^ 
cried Seaton Bennett. it 

"Yes, yes," answered Doolan. "Get yerself ready. ' 
111 feed the horses. Leave all as it is. Now, hurry, so j 
ye can start in an hour." ^ 

"Mike," whispered the cowardly, plotting wretch j 
who had made the "Cyanide process" a success, "I E 
must go into my room. To get you the money. You j- 
know — ^" I 

\ 



CHECKED THROUGH. 209 

Doolan strode up the stairs and returned in a few 
loments with a pallid face. For he had borne the 
eautiful sacrifice on Love's altar back to her own 
>oin, to the chamber where the white powder, hidden 
I the heart of the bon bons, had done its almost light- 
ing work. "Go up now, ye coward, and be ready to 
et out of here. I*m sick of seeing you under the same 
x>f that covers her." 

In half an hour the men faced each other at the table 
gain in the butler's room. There was a red flush on 
eaton Bennett's cheeks now, for he had found the way 
3 the brandy bottle. "I have all the things I want to 
ike. Here is your money and here is your check. It 
dll be certified and paid. There's but one thing, Mike, 
beg you to do, to save both our lives. Here is a letter. 
4ail this back to the United States at Liverpool when 
ou land. Make no mistake. It is undated, and it will 
urn all her friends' eyes to Europe. They will think 
hat she is over there." 

"Ah, yer a smart devil," cried Doolan. "Was this 
m accident?" he fiercely cried. 

"Yes. It was arranged between us that she should 
mil it after she got her money. She was going away 
o Europe contented." 

"I believe ye lie," was Doolan's ugly rejoinder, "but 
he luck's with ye, and the lie goes! WhafU I do with 
^er traps?" 

"Throw all into the trunk and check it to Long 
island City when you go down to-morrow night. Send 
ne the check to the Southern Hotel, St. Louis. I'll 
lave my janitor store the trunk in my rooms till I re- 
urn. He will get it at the baggage ofiice. Don't fail. 
The papers in there are valuable." 

"It's a good scheme," said Doolan, as he thrust the 
noney and check into his bosom. "Now, it's half past 
iix. It will be dark when ye get to Sag Harbor. Ye'U 
ind the boy at Donovan's saloon there, The Harp of 
2rin.' Tell him to rest the horses and come right back 
lere to me, and bid him, too, bring some good whisky 
ind cigars. I'll be all i eady to clear out when he cotae^. 



210 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Yes, and send a good basket of lunch, too. Write me 
always to Long Island City. Casey will forward alL 
I'll mail yer letter from Liverpool. Now, do you get to 
St. Louis and telegraph back to Mrs. Martyn as soon 
as ye can. It may save yer neck, for, mind ye, Mr. Con- 
gressman, I won't risk mine.'* 

There was no one to see the leave taking of the 
frightened scoundrel, who grasped the reins eagerly, as 
Red Mike threw Bennett's smaller luggage into the 
wagon. 

"Mike," begged Bennett, "for God's sake, clear all 
up. And, give me one of the pistols." 

"Drive on, you fool. You have all the whisky with 
ye. I'll keep yer pistol." 

And the would-be Honorable Seaton Bennett, M. C^ 
lashed the fretting horses and drove away, never once 
turning his head. There was one that went out with 
him on the long and dreary road. The pale shade of a 
beautiful, loving woman, with her arms outstretched to 
the flying murderer in a wife's appeal for aid, and the 
wailing gusts of the night wind brought back to hi8 
ears that last agonizing cry, "Help! Seaton! Help!" 
The devil in his heart laughed as the fiend whispered, 
"He is mine forevermore. I have fooled them all." 

Red Mike carefully reconnoitered every opening of 
the dreary old stone mansion and then sprang at his 
work. The whole upper part of the house was first 
examined and he made sure that no token of the pres- 
ence of the lost lady was left there to betray them 
later. Then, in feverish eagerness, he gathered up 
all of Seaton Bennett's belongings below stairs, drag- 
ging down his great trunk into the butler's room. Hour 
by hour he labored on till there was nothing left above 
him but the beautiful clay, the waxen image of the lov- 
ing one who had gone out on the dark seas of Death 
through the golden gates of Love. 

The booming of a distant fog bell struck terror tc 
Red Mike's heart. He had been trained in youth, in 
the far Galway mountains, to mind the Angelus, and 
this lonely night, as the waters rose and swelled anc 



CHECKED THROUGH. 211 

the gray mists shrouded the lonely sandy shores, he 
shuddered as he listened to the hoarse cries of the wild 
sea mews. 

"It's a fearful burial for a departed Christian, to be 
hidden like a dead dog in these sand dunes," he faltered. 
And then, new fears came to vex him. He had fool- 
ishly allowed Seaton Bennett to escape. If Bennett 
were to denounce him! "IVe the weapons and the 
money. My God, I was mad to let him go!" 

Michael Doolan paced the floor for hours, and then 
strange thoughts came to him. "This wretch may hold 
the secret over me. If he were even to denounce me 
now. Fool! He has tracked me, and I dare not even 
tell the boy." He picked up the light and, pistol in 
hand, went all over the old house again, for strange 
spirits of the night wailed and shrieked a requiem over 
murdered innocence there, where love's fair flower lay 
slain by the felon hand of a scoundrel husband. The 
greatest task lay before him yet. And Red Mike shud- 
dered when he realized that if men should find her body 
in the sand dunes later, that he might pay with his life 
for a fatal mistake. His brows were damp with cold 
drops as he saw the future, now black with gathering 
terrors. "How am I to do it? I'll not bury her like a 
dog. And I am innocent of her death. If I had help — 
some one whom I could trust." He nervously sought to 
assure himself of the safety of the five thousand dollars 
— ^the love offering of the ambitious widow of the gold- 
en plumber. *'This will take me to Ireland and back, 
but, how to get there?" He stooped and picked up a 
card which had fallen. He cried, "By God! I have it! 
Safe! Safe at last!" For a dirty little pasteboard in his 
trembling fingers bore the name of 

• JAMES T. DEVLIN, 

Funeral Director, 

Long Island City. 

Red Mike sat for an hour raking the last ashes 
of the dying fire together in the chamber of the dead. 



212 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"There must be no accident here," he murmured in a 
dazed way. For a new scheme had been woven in his 
busy brain. "It will be a hold on him. Devlin is a 
Clan-Na-Gael man, and I'm president of the society 
that gives him all his business. The old man is simple. 
I can trust to him. There's plenty of money in the 
scheme, and there'll be two of us in it Besides, Devlin 
is poor." 

Something caught the eye of the frightened saloon- 
keeper as he raked the last ashes of the hearth to- 
gether. He stooped and drew out on the old brick 
hearth a half melted golden cigarette case. A cunning 
look flashed from his eyes as he went below and re- 
turned with an ewer of water. There was no spark of 
fire left lingering there, as he locked the door and then 
went below with his trophy. "That scoundrel threw 
this in there to be destroyed, and the ashes covered it 
partly. There's been foul play! I'll have no mercy on 
him now." 

The gray dawn was breaking as a boy drove up with 
the returning team. Red Mike's plans were made at 
last, and his brow was serene as he bade the boy feed 
the horses and be ready to return at once to Sag Har- 
bor. "There's a fifty dollar bill for you if you get old 
Jim on the train to-night," said Doolan, as the boy 
was at last ready to return. "Stay at Long Island City 
and wait there for me. I'll be home to-morrow night. 
Tell Donovan to let Devlin drive the team out at once. 
I want to see him alone on some business. There's 
whisky and cigars and lunch enough here for a dozen. 
Now, fly away wid ye.'' The boy never looked behind 
as he rattled away, for a twenty dollar bill was in his 
pocket, and there were fifty more ahead to earn. 

Mr. Michael Doolan cast about him as the lad dis- 
appeared from view and soon noted an old coast survey 
station behind the house where the murdered Made- 
leine Bennett now lay alone in the silent majesty of 
Death. For an hour he toiled away there with pick 
and spade and before noon he dragged out a heavy, 
bright, new trunk from the house, and carefully tamp- 



/ 



CHECKED THROUGH. 213 

ig the sand over it, smoothed down the surface of the 
illock. Seated there, keenly watching the entourage, 
le rested a half hour. The comfort of a flask and cigar 
/as not denied. "Now, Mr. Bennett, M. C. to be," cried 
led Mike, "there's yer trousseau and the poor lady's 
lothes all hidden for good — ^till I need them. Yer 
>wn valuable papers I'll just file in my valise, and I 
hink that my safe deposit box is big enough for them. 
*Iow for Devlin. I have fooled the scoundrel!" 

Mr. Doolan little recked that under the same after- 
loon sun, Seaton Bennett, Esq., counselor at law, was 
m the "Raven," now gliding out of Cape May harbor, 
le having promptly and gleefully telegraphed to the 
air widow at Saratoga. "Can you make Baltimore to- 
norrow night, captain?" said Bennett. 

"Easy enough," was the answer, and then the law- 
yer chuckled, "I have fooled them all," as the swift 
'Raven" dashed along toward Cape Charles. 

Before the legal gentleman had registered his name 
It the Spottswood House, Baltimore, simple old 
fimmy Devlin had stolen back to Long Island City 
From Sag Harbor. He had achieved a secret profes- 
sional work in fear. He was a bit paler than his wont, 
md five of Mrs. Julie Martyn's new one hundred dollar 
iills were in his leather wallet 

"It's all right, Devlin," said Red Mike when the 
mdertaker left the old house at Fireplace. "The gen- 
leman landed from his yacht, and he's only fled away 
:o avoid any scandal. Fll hold you clear of all trouble, 
md there's a thousand dollars for ye, if the friends 
ind all safe and right, in a year's time." 

"It'll be the same in two years, ye can depend on it!" 
aid Devlin, as he whipped up the horses. 

"Be sure to have Donovan send the baggage wagon 
)ack with the team at once," was Red Mike's last man- 
late. 

Mr. Seaton Bennett was flying along on the Balti- 
nore and Ohio Railroad toward Cincinnati, when 
Michael Doolan, Esq., himself drove up to the "Harp 
)i Erin" in Sag Harbor. There was no tenant now at 



214 CHECKED THROUGH. 

the old mansion in the little microscopic village of Fi^^ 
place — nothing but the haunting silence of the forgot- 
ten years. ]I 

Mr. Doolan had again gone over the whole mansion 
with the greatest care. Not even a strayed ribbon, 
not a single graceful glove, moulded by her slender 
hand, was left to speak in an eloquent silence of the 
loving-hearted woman who had found the grim sum- 
mons waiting her in the lonely rooms of the dreary 
mansion. An awful summons! 

"That's a terrible heavy trunk," growled the country 
driver as he bade Doolan aid him with the great pack- 
age marked S. B., New York City. "Yes. Books is 
heavy enough," grunted Doolan, springing into the 
light buggy, where Donovan's boy waited him. "Drive 
on steady and mind my lead." 

The trunk was carefully bound and lashed with many 
a knotted rope, and Mr. Doolan's eye never failed to 
note the progress of the team behind him till the old 
whaling village was reached at last. Mr. Michael 
Doolan was well known to nearly all the officials of 
the railway, whose coffers were filled generously by 
the annual outings of the "Long Island Sporting Club." 
Not till he had purchased his ticket and carefully 
checked the heavy trunk of books did Red Mike depart 
to "foregather^' an hour or so with his old crony, Dono- 
van. 

"That's a whopper," said Bill Wilkins, the baggage- 
master, as he wheeled Red Mike's trunk to the baggage 
car and with much toil saw it therein bestowed. "Here's 
your check, Mr. Doolan," remarked Wilkins. "Ill 
charge you no extra, but you gain a hundred pounds on 
us this time." While Bill Wilkins, reinforced with a 
good dram and a pocketful of cigars, wandered down 
to the switch tender's box. Red Mike deftly slipped an 
extra check strap and duplicate brass tags off the rack 
before him. "I may have use for these later," he 
grinned. "Sure, the company can stand it. They've 
got plenty." And then the partner of Seaton Bennett's 
secret sought out the "Harp of Erin," for he felt at last 



CHECKED THROUGH. 215 

a sense of personal safety and a foretaste of coming 
power. "I have him — 'dead to rights/" grinned 
Doolan, as he **swopped the time of day" with his po- 
litical ally, Donovan. 

It was with the greatest care that Doolan saw his 
luggage transferred at Babylon, when he had gladly 
left behind the little twenty hundred tumble-down town 
of Sag Harbor. Its fine haven of splendid anchorage 
no longer was crowded with the old-time whalers 
peopled by their polyglot crews going to the weird 
antipodes in search of the giant right whale. The sons 
of the old skippers, boat steerers and harpooners were 
now busied in the service of the growing crowds of 
summer visitors or toiling in the cotton and flour mills, 
the paper works and cigar factories. 

"Damn me, if I ever cast eyes on Montauk Point 
again," growled Red Mike, as he dodged out of the 
open baggage car at Babylon, where he had lingered 
for several weary hours at that modern "Mugby Junc- 
tion." Red Mike dared not yet look back at the four 
days past. He desired to efface every trace of his stay 
at the old mansion in Fireplace. To this end. Red Mike 
deftly substituted the stolen check and check strap for 
the one affixed by friend Wilkins at Sag Harbor, when 
the grumbling trainmen made up the Long Island 
City train at Babylon. "I'll send the keys of the old 
house back to-morrow. Fll get quickly rid of this, 
too," he shuddered as he gazed at his trunk of "books," 
"and when I get Bennett's check certified, I'm off to 
ould Ireland." 

Red Mike felt a sense of delicious enjoyment steal 
over him as the train rolled into Long Island City near 
midnight. The gleaming splendors of his palatial gin 
palace wooed him in vain, until he had called the near- 
est truckman and followed his baggage to his own 
fortress of Bacchus. The drowsy freight handlers 
never even looked at the brass check which Doolan 
presented, but pushed out the trunk with their cus- 
tomary volleys of profanity at its weight. Red Mike 
soon slept the sleep of the just, as he had carefully 



216 CHECKED THROUGH. 

locked up his ill-gotten money, and received all the re- 
ports of his nimble Ganymede, Casey. "J^st lock up 
that trunk, Patsey, in the baggage room for the night 
and then bring me the key," was the chiefs last order. 

Mr. Doolan was privately busied with his friend, 
James Devlin, for an hour in the baggage room of his 
alleged hostelry on the morrow of his arrival. "Do you 
want to take these off?" said Devlin, pointing to a strap 
and brass railroad check still hanging from the handle 
of the trunk which Mr. Seaton Bennett had carried all 
over Europe. "They forgot to take the check and 
strap off this." 

"Never mind," growled Doolan. "Hurry up!" And 
while his confederate bent to his work, Red Mike com- 
pared the brass tag with the one in his hand. "That's 
all right," he grinned, as he slowly read off the figures, 
I, 7, 5, 8 and o — 17580. "I'll be back in a minute." Mr. 
Doolan was very soon again resplendent in his chapeau 
de soie, his usual gala attire and his diamond of state. 
Grasping his gold-headed cane, he then walked down 
to the express office and most carefully made up a 
package, addressed "Seaton Bennett, Southern Hotel, 
St. Louis." He did not forget to telegraph to the same 
address these two cheering words, "All right," for 
there was a yellow missive already in his pocketbook 
bearing the news which now gladdened his heart 
"Mailed letter to bank to-day." When the great Doo- 
lan returned, with measured steps, he found that James 
Devlin had neatly sewed up the trunk of books in a 
stout, doubled canvas covering. "That's grand," was 
the verdict of Red Mike. 

"There's three thicknesses of canvas," murmured 
Devlin. 

All right now," nodded Red Mike, as he whispered, 
Come around next week for your money." Mr. Doo- 
lan locked the door when Devlin departed, and then, 
seizing a brush and marking pot, painfully scrawled in 
huge black letters the inscription, "A. A., Brooklyn," 
and he grinned as he touched up the small letters, 
"Books— with care." "That'll do," was his admiring 






CHECKED THROUGH. 217 

comment. He soon sought the outer splendors of the 
gin palace and watched, in an hour, Mr. Patsey Casey, 
head barkeeper, singularly modest in his attire, drive 
away toward the Thirty-Fourth Street ferry. "Remem- 
ber, Casey," said Red Mike, "tell the men to pay the 
storage for a year in advance, and have the trunk put 
carefully away. The man will not be back for a year 
from Europe, and maybe not, then. Here's his post- 
office address in Brooklyn." 

There was some restless devil that day lingering in 
Mike Doolan's heart as he wandered around watching 
the harvest of future sorrow, poverty and crime being 
swept over his mahogany counters, until the face of 
Casey beamed upon him on his return. 

"There's yer papers," growled Casey. "Paid stor- 
age bill, receipt and all, six dollars, and the expenses, 
eleven dollars in all." 

"Good for you," heartily answered Doolan. "Send 
round now for my horses. I want to take a drive." 
And in the long hours of the summer evening Red 
Mike drove far afield, with his trusted attorney, Mr. 
Terence P. Grady, of the bar of Long Island City. They 
had soon settled all the preliminaries of Doolan's visit 
abroad. "I want to get over and back," said the man 
of bottles, "before the fall elections." 

"There^s nothing to hinder," was the advocate's 
answer. 

Red Mike's usual jaunty tranquility had returned 
long before he thankfully entered the bank and there 
deposited the check for ten thousand dollars, promptly 
certified on Bennett's letter. "It's a good job that he's 
away to the Rockies," mused Doolan, as he tele- 
graphed to Helena, Montana, "Sail Tuesday." "It 
seems that all the coast is clear," murmured Doolan, as 
his mind wandered back to the lonely stone house by 
the lagoon. "There seems to be no one left to mourn for 
her. God rest her soul. She was a rare beauty! FU 
hold this devil up for all I can get out of him, and then 
Devlin can see that she's laid away later in consecrated 
ground. If he plays me false, by God, I have hitxv 



218 CHECKED THROUGH. 

planted. For he's got the trunk check and he'll make a 
devil of a racket about his papers. I can find them just 
when I wish to," he laughed, "and that's another hold 
on him." 

Fair Julie Martin, in her cool, shaded villa at Sara- 
toga, was gloating over her future happiness before 
several "associations" escorted the departing Doolan 
with music and vast hilarity to the Liverpool steamer. 
Three rousing cheers for "Doolan" sent the "Au- 
rania" spinning away loaded with well wishes. It was 
the height of the brilliant summer, and Mrs. Martyn, 
blazing in jewels, sat in a dream of happiness upon 
her shaded villa portico and softly plotted all the de- 
tails of the coming nomination of Seaton Bennett, 
Esq., whose election to congress was "a foregone 
conclusion." There were the most roseate reports 
coming daily of the success of the "Cyanide process," 
and the "Raven," filled with a jolly delegation of the 
Tiger's cubs, was far away now flitting along the At- 
lantic coast, pausing wherever bright eyes and foam- 
ing wine wooed these "statesmen out of a job." 

But in this time of roses there was an unwonted ex- 
citement in the office of "Bashford, Blake and BodleyT' 
Counselor Bodley was busied with the various men 
who slipped in and out of the half-deserted law em- 
porium with gjave faces, btue bearded with close 
shaving. Messengers and telegraph boys flitted about 
uneasily, and the startled Mr. Nathaniel Withers de- 
livered much ofl-hand wisdom to the detained em- 
ployes. For the most imperative cablegrams from Hi- 
ram Bashford in Europe as to the whereabouts of Miss 
Madeleine Ware had been all answered with the omi- 
nous words "Missing still !" The circle of timid ladies at 
Mamaroneck exhibited to the detectives and the anx- 
ious Bodley all the packed-up luggage and accumu- 
lated letters of the woman whose silence and long ab- 
sence now greatly alarmed them all! 

The very closest search of New York and vicinity 
had elicited nothing. Mrs. Flossie Renwick's anxious 
demands were also added to those of Counselor Bash- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 219 

ford, and even the old home in Delaware had been vis- 
ited by Lawyer Jarvis, now thoroughly frightened 
himself. The most carefully worded personal adver- 
tisements in the journals remained without reply, and 
the fact of the recreant Shearer having compromised 
his suit was an added cause of alarm. It was passing 
strange. For a hundred thousand dollars awaited the 
return of the lost heiress of Ware Hall ! "Thank God !" 
cried Bodley, as he opened a cablegram, after two 
weeks' of unsuccessful search. "Bashford is coming 
home at once, and he will take this load off my shoul- 
ders!'' 

There was the growing mystery, a sickening fear, 
now chilling all hearts! For sweet Madeleine Ware 
had simply vanished as if the earth had swallowed her 
up! There was not a single trace of her path after her de- 
parture from Mamaroneck on that sunny day when she 
stole away with love in her heart to meet the man 
whom she had dowered with her young life! Coun- 
selor Bodley was sore at heart when Bashford's cable- 
gram was followed by the appearance of Mrs. Flor- 
ence Renwick, escorted by her anxious husband. 
Jimmy Renwick listened in a sad silence to his wife, 
who, through her broken sobs, vainly demanded the 
friend of her childhood at the hands of the agitated 
Bodley! 

"This Mr. Bennett! Your young partner! What does 
he say?" persisted Florence, for the memories of Seaton 
Bennett's longing glances returned to her. "My dear 
Madame!" was Bodley's hasty rejoinder. "Impossible 
that he should know! Our Mr. Bennett left here two 
weeks before Miss Ware disappeared, and he has been 
working at the Golden Eagle Mine in Montana with A 
hundred men around him, all the while! He has also 
been in frequent correspondence with us. Here is his 
answer: *Know nothing whatever,' to our first dispatch. 
He will be here himself in three weeks to explain fur- 
ther!" 

It was absolutely unanswerable, for all men now 



220 CHEXIJKED THROUGH. 

knew that the great "Cylanide process'' of Professor 
Eckfeldt was a patent success! 

And at Saratoga, Julie Martyn, waiting there to 
clasp her returning lover to her breast, counted now 
the days until the election certificate should be her brid- 
al present to her chosen husband! For by his side — 
she stood in fancy now, to see the doors of the White 
House open to the first visit of the laureled young 
statesman ! The crown of her loveless life ! 

The breezes sweeping over the lonely rose arbors of 
the old home on the Delaware swept away in eddying 
whirls the drifted petals of the flowers which the dead 
girl once loved ! The gray mists silently wrapped the 
lonely shores of Montauk Point, but never again did 
the gentle eyes of Madeleine Ware look upon the 
face of these friends who sorrowed in heart bitterness! 
She was now only a vanished vision of delight! It was 
in silence and bowed down with sorrow's heaviest bur- 
dens that Hiram Bashford at last stepped upon the 
pier at Hoboken, when the good ship which brought 
him heavy-hearted home was made fast! He could 
scarcely command his senses when Florence Renwick 
threw herself in his arms. "Did you find her in Eu- 
rope?" was the little matron's agonized cry. "Made- 
leine! No! Nothing — not a trace of her!" was the 
startled man's reply. "Then," sobbed Florence, "she 
is dead, or else gone mad, or has been carried away! 
For, I have received a letter from Europe in her own 
hand! Oh! My God! Poor Madeleine!" While 
Renwick comforted his wife, a horrible fear thrilled a 
moment in Bashford's heart! "Never!" he muttered, 
and his face was ashen as he led them aside. "Tell 
me all!" he groaned. 



BOOK III.— Vengeance is Mine, Saith the Lord. 



CHAPTER XI. 

THE CONGRESSMAN'S MARRIAGE. 

On the evening of Hiram Bashford's return to New 
York city the mansion of the old lawyer blazed with 
unaccustomed light. Above stairs, Mrs. Renwick was 
busied in conference with the business representative 
of the absent Mrs. Minnie Walton, while in the library 
below the gray-haired lawyer sat at a table with Mr. 
James Renwick as chief aide-de-camp. Opposite them 
the stem inspector of police, whose very name was a 
terror to criminals, conversed in low tones with the 
chief of the New York city detectives. "I now place 
the whole matter in your hands. Inspector," said Bash- 
ford, "with the one proviso, that you'll call on me for 
all the money you need, and all the help that I can ren- 
der. I shall do nothing in the routine line of my pro- 
fession until I have determined the whereabouts of this 
missing girl — dead or alive ! What is your idea of the 
case?" The two police chiefs had been communing 
for two hours now, and then pausing to ask a question 
of Renwick or Bashford. Several times the young 
husband had gone up stairs to bring information from 
the schoolmate, who already mourned her friend's 
demise. 

"There's no use to talk !" cried Florence. "My rea- 
sons are simply a woman's reasons! Madeleine her- 
self never would have written that letter to me to be 
received in that mysterious manner ! It is not her way ! 
And, there has surely been some dreadful wrong!" The 



222 CHECKED THROUGH. 

inspector gazed pityingly at Bashford as he consulted 
his repeater. "I can answer when we get the cable- 
gram from this Mrs. Minnie Walton in Paris! Then, 
I am ready to make up my mind! I do not wish to 
send out a general police alarm until we are all agreed 
in our plan of action!" They were soon interrupted 
by Mts. Walton's agent, who had been summoned to 
the front door. "J^st as I told you, gentlemen! Just 
as the ladies at Mamaroneck said!'' was the agent's re- 
mark as he read: "Hotel Continental, Paris. Know 
nothing; no letters received; have not heard of the 
person being on this side." The signature, "Mrs. M. 
Walton," seemed now to close the last door of hope for 
Jimmy Renwick! "Sit down, Mr. Barton!" said the 
inspector. "What is the report of these ladies out 
there? Give me every word of their remarks! I wish 
them all to kindly come in here to-morrow, and I would 
like them to allow my personal representative to have 
the fullest access to every nook and corner of that 
house! Also, to allow Miss Ware's baggage to be ex- 
amined. I'll send a locksmith and a specially experi- 
enced man in such cases!" Bashford dropped his head 
on his hands as the agent recounted the barren story 
of the three fellow sojourners at Mamaroneck. After 
ten minutes, it was clear to all that Madeleine Ware 
had openly departed, after due notice to Bodley and 
her country house friends, on a brief visit to some un- 
named country locality. Her directions as to her re- 
tained baggage, her letters and her personal affairs, 
was the same to all — ^to simply await her return or her 
later orders! "So," mused the inspector, "it seems 
that she avoided telling any one of her real purpose in 
this departure, and even concealed it from Mrs. Ren- 
wick!" The veteran official took up Madeleine's last 
letter to Florence Renwick, declining her hospitalities. 
"She went away, then, to meet some one!" Jimmy 
Renwick grasped Bashford's arm as he started up, 
crying, "Impossible!" "Pardon, counselor !** gravely 
said the inspector. "When you have followed the hid- 
den side of New York life, as I have, for forty years, 



CHECKED THROUGH* 223 

the word 'impossibleVwill be dropped from your vo- 
cabulary!" "Go ahead!" groaned Bashford. 

"Now," said the inspector, "who are the men of so- 
cial rank who have been around there these two sea- 
sons?" The agent ran over the names of a dozen of 
Minnie Walton's journalistic and literary set. "Also," 
he said slowly, fixing his eyes on Bashford, "Mr. Sea- 
ton Bennett came out to see Miss Ware about the time 
of the Shearer suit down in Delaware!" The brief re- 
cital over. Barton uneasily said: "I have done all I 
can. I'll bring these people down to-morrow. I'll 
write Mrs. Walton. Is there an)rthing else I can do?" 
"Yes!" said the inspector. "I'll send a man up there 
to act as gardener for a month. Tell the ladies to let 
him have full swing! I'll g^ve them all their points 
to-morrow!" When Barton withdrew, the inspector 
referred to a list of dates and penciled brief of notes 
before him. 

"The others are all well-known men of good repute. 
Each one has to show up daily in New York on duty, 
and there seems to be no hidden motive! As to Ben- 
nett!" he paused, and closely studied Bashford's face. 
"There's Bennett's dispatch!" frankly said Bashford, 
throwing down a paper. "He has been at the Golden 
Eagle Mine in Montana for weeks ! He left New York 
two weeks before Miss Ware disappeared. His inter- 
est in our firm is a snug fifteen thousand dollars a year 
to him. And, beyond aiding her in trying the Shearer 
case in my absence, he has sought no intimacy with 
Miss Ware. While admiring her talent, he always de- 
plored her being entirely out of place in the public ex- 
posure of a busy law office!" The inspector read over 
the lines with care. 

"Coming home at once. Distressed at news. Know 
absolutely nothing. Will aid in every way. Arrive 
in three days." 

"These are certainly the frank words of an honest 
man!" said the inspector. "Did you see the evening 
paper?" "What is there in it?" demanded the two 
searchers in a breath. "There's a long account of this 



224 CHECKED THROUGH. 

wonderful new 'Cyanide gold process,' and a statement 
that Professor Eckfeldt and Seaton Bennett of New 
York have carried the working tests on to a magnifi- 
cent success. Mr. Bennett represents alone, the own- 
ers of the Golden Eagle mine, and also the syndicate 
which has bought the new process for a half million 
dollars. It states that Bennett has watched this pro- 
cess in secret for months! Such a man is above any 
foolish escapades with his share of a clean million in 
sight!" There was a silence around the board till 
Jimmy Renwick hesitatingly said: "My wife still fan- 
cies that Bennett did have some influence over Miss 
Ware! She insists on it!" "He will be here very 
soon to answer for himself," replied the inspector. "I 
can tell you a secret: Bennett will probably be slated 
for Congress from the Nineteenth District fliis fall! I 
know all our younger New York men pretty well in 
their downsettings and their uprisings!" firmly said the 
officer. "There's not a single black mark against 
Bennett. His life is clean — and clear! He is ambi- 
tious, able and an available man! The friends behind 
him who are giving him a *walk over* for Congress are 
probably in this ^Cyanide process' syndicate, and he 
would be a mad fool to throw away his chances and his 
career! I suppose you all know that what is called the 
'woman business,' will drag down any man whose 
name goes before voters or conventions! People col- 
lectively apply rules of morality which they often for- 
get in their own private lives." 

"Yes!" gloomily answered Bashford. "Many a fa- 
vorite son of the people has sadly stepped down and 
out, dragged down by the unavenged wrongs of 
womanhood! Now, it is only due to Bennett to say, 
that I myself urged him to push the Shearer case for 
me, in my absence. Miss Ware was to me simply an 
adopted daughter!" He sighed heavily. "And, more- 
over, Blake and Bodley never liked her presence in the 
office. They may have felt that it would embarrass 
them when — when I drew out forever! Now, Bennett 
always handled the office work specially assigned to 



CHECKED THROUGH. 225 

Miss Ware, and as I gave her my private affairs while 
absent, and Bennett was in sole charge of the firm's 
office business in vacation, they were mutually thrown 
somewhat together! No! There's nothing wrong 
there! And Blake and Bodley also say there's not a 
shadow on Seaton Bennett! His letters to them are 
full, frank and manly ! He told me of all his congres- 
sional hopes — and of many other things. I intend to 
leave him a share of my practice when I retire, which 
will be very soon !" Hiram Bashford's head was rest- 
ing on his hands. "I would have gladly set these 
young people up! Bennett had only to speak! I 
have willed Ware Hall to this dear missing g^rl — ^and 
— ^and a lot of money! There was no obstacle!" 

The inspector said quietly: "Tell me of this hun- 
dred thousand dollar compromise." "Why!" simply 
replied Bashford. "That money was duly paid in to 
Jarvis and Thorn by Shearer's father-in-law. It lies 
there unclaimed. The old Delaware blue bloods boy- 
cotted the whole connection, bank. Shearer and his 
bride's family. They sullenly paid up for peace and 
to stay popular clamor at Shearer's cowardice!" 

"Could Bennett have known of this?" persisted the 
cautious inspector. "He was already a month in far- 
off Montana before the unexpected surrender of these 
Delaware scoundrels," quickly said Bashford. 

"And there has never been the slightest reply to 
Bodley's advertisements? To Mrs. Renwick's veiled 
'personals?'" the officer demanded, as he lit a fresh 
cigar. "Not even an anonymous postal card? Not a 
single rumor?" 

"Not a thing !" It was the joint reply of the two men 
watching the inspector's sphinx-like face. The two po- 
lice officers murmured a few words, and Bashford's 
brow crimsoned as he heard the detective captain whis- 
per: "I'm afraid it's just the old story!" 

"I shall send out a general alarm now!" said the in- 
spector, with a repressive glance at the detective. 
"Oblige me by letting me have even the slightest facts 
which may recur to you ! Now, I wish to read on^xt 



226 CHECKED THROUGH. 

that letter of hers which you have held backl The 
one from Europe! For," the inspector steadily and 
deliberately continued, with half-closed eyes, "that 
missing young lady left voluntarily for one purpose 
only — to meet some manl It was love — ^not business 
— ^that took her away! She concealed her purpose 
from even her dearest friends 1 She went to meet some 
one who had grown dearer than all her intimate circle, 
more to her even than this money waiting her — ^than 
the future career which so brightly flattered. In other 
words — it was love that led her to turn away from the 
whole world, for one alone! And — worthy, or un- 
worthy — ^it does not matter! She is gone! Another 
beautiful woman missing!" 

"And, she is now with him in Europe?" cried Bash- 
ford with a sinking heart. "By no means!" coolly re- 
plied the inspector. "She may be hidden in New 
York, almost within hail. I don't think that she is in 
Europe!" "Why?" breathlessly cried Bashford and 
Renwick. "She was free to move in every way. No 
one had the faintest claim on her! I do not even think 
she sent that letter herself from Europe! You say 
that she wrote it! Well and good! It was sent over 
there and posted to screen the man who needed to be 
screened. It is a decoy! She had nothing to hide, 
but voluntarily left you all mystified!" "And, then, 
where is she now?" demanded Hiram in an ecstasy of 
agony. "Ah! God alone knows!" gravely said the 
inspector. "There are over two hundred missing 
women every year reported in New York! Some we 
find!" His voice was solemn. "Some are never 
found!" "You think that she has been—" The in- 
spector laid his hand kindly on Bashford's arm. "I 
think nothing! Give me the letter and its envelope. 
The man she would screen may have been a married 
man — he may in some other way be fenced in with the 
world's trammels. He may have already tired of her 
— she may now be in durance or hidden away! False 
shame may perhaps seal her lips! They may be silent 
forever! The story of woman's trust, of man's brutal- 



. CHECKED THROUGH. 227 

ity, of the quickly ripened harvest of error— it simply 
sickens my heart! I always see the frantic parents, 
the deceived husbands, the betrayed lovers, the dis- 
tracted friends! And — ^these things — these sad things 
— occur even in the best of families! The greater the 
height, the deeper the plunge! The hard way of ski!" 
Bashford silently laid the letter down before the 
stony-faced inspector, whose glasses were now turned 
upon the document in silence for five minutes. He 
finally said, gravely: "I must keep this!" Renwick 
and Bashford sat as if under the death sentence while 
the inspector turned to the detective captain. "This 
Liverpool date is over three weeks after her disappear- 
ance. The envelope is stamped with the trade mark 
'American Specialty Company. Fifth Avenue Hotel.* 
The letter and its cover are wrinkled in those minute 
folds made by being carried long in a man's pocket! 
Some man took that letter to Europe to post from 
there! Not the man she met!" "Why so?" faltered 
Bashford. "The man she met, as a lover, wanted her 
— not her friends!" was the officer's answer. "It looks 
bad! He would not help her to communicate! No wom- 
an carries a letter for any time in a pocket! It is one 
of the fads of the sex to be pocketless! This letter has 
been crumpled and worn with all the movements of a 
man's body! Now, the whole thing shows that she 
is not in Europe — ^we know that she left of her own 
accord, deceiving you all! That some man under the 
control of her lover posted that letter, by his orders, to 
deceive you all and to throw you off the track! He 
feared only the search for this woman! He did not 
fear her leaving him, for then he never would have 
sent it. If she were free, she would have sent it her- 
self to the one friend of her childhood. Mark you, she 
wanted but one person to know of her happiness — not 
you. Now, why should you not joy in her happy love, 
if open and honorable?" Bashford dropped his eyes! 
He dared not openly avouch his perfunctory offer of 
hand and home to the spirited girl! The inspector 
continued : "Again, no place, no date ! She was cer- 



228 CHECKED THROUGH. 

tainly a free agent when she wrote this letter! She 
did not wish you to follow her there! It may have 
been used — used, too, in a way that she did not fore- 
see!" The inspector's voice was shaken as he read 
aloud the last words of Madeleine Bennett: 

"Dearest Florence: 

"You are the only one in the world to whom I can 
now say that I am happy — so happy— supremely 
happy ! You will not wonder at my absence, or at my 
past silence, when you know all! You will not blame 
me for not coming to you first, for my new life opens 
to me all that I ever wished for. You will be the first 
to whom I shall tell all. Do not seek me until I come 
to you. Send me a single kind word to Mamaroneck, 
and — wait in love for me! This is for your own eyes 
alone! 

"Always, as of old, lovingly, 

"Your Madeleine." 

"The woman who wrote these words had g^ven her- 
self up blindly to another's will!" concluded the offi- 
cer. "She thought herself to be beloved ! There has 
been a change! She had nothing to conceal, and she 
may be hiding away, or hidden! Demented — or— 
dead! I shall only search for her now as 'missing*— 
and, I fear that it will prove to be a criminal case!" 
The two officers had gone before Bashford and Ren- 
wick found words. "I will take my wife home," sadly 
said Jimmy Renwick. "Hugh and I will come over 
here to you any time at your call! Florence must be 
taken away out of this. As for you, my friend, there 
is but one hope! The inspector! Leave it all to him. 
Bennett may be able to throw some light on her as- 
sociations. He is keen-brained and active! He will 
help. Is there no theory among the ladies at the 
apartment house?" "Bodley has worked up every 
clue," replied the old lawyer, wearily. "She had no 
real intimates! Even Mrs. Van Cortlandt cannot give 
a single useful hint! Withers, the head clerk, has 



CHECKED THROUGH. 229 

scoured the lower part of the city! The postal au- 
thorities, the janitor and his family, the tradesmen, are 
barren of news. There is not a single clue to work 
upon !" "Do you think that she could have gone over 
to Europe ?'' timidly hazarded Renwick. "Her life 
was so lonely — so loveless! Remember that she was 
young and spirited ! She never knew a mother I And 
— if gone astray — her pride — ^poor womanhood's last 
shield — might keep her deaf to the appeals of even 
our loving hearts!" "Ah! Renwick!" cried Bashford, 
rising, "I would stake my life upon her honor, dead or 
alive ! No ! There is but one answer to all ! She has 
been betrayed ! And I will give my life up to tracing 
this out V' 

Long after the young Pennsylvanian had led his sor- 
rowing wife away, Hiram Bashford walked the floor 
that night with restless tread. "If any man has 
harmed my poor darling," he growled — ^for hideous 
visions came to mock him — "then, it were better for 
that man he had never been bom!** In the far hills of 
Montana, Seaton Bennett that night read over a dozen 
times a brief reply to his own teleg^phed words. His 
eyes glittered with a strange triumph as he read: 
"Hasten back here. We need your help. Come at 
once. Bashford." 

"I have fooled them all!" he mused, as the comfort 
of the brandy bottle warmed his flagging courage to 
the "sticking point !" "Doolan has done his work well ! 
He will be away a month yet! I will get my trunk 
safely back long before he returns! The yacht, too, 
has been far away all the while! And Bodley writes 
me that the advertisements have not brought out even 
a rumor! I wonder if—" He dared not finish the 
thought! For, safe as he was, he would start at night 
in his dreams and murmur: "Deeper! Dig down 
deeper!" He would fain know that a hiding place 
had been hollowed so deep that wind or wave, that 
man's prying hand would never uncover the dread 
burden Red Mike had borne alone out to the lonely 
sand dunes of Montauk Point on the night when he 



230 chex:;ked through. 

fled away! Seaton Bennett had feverishly thrust him- 
self into the active labors of the long working experi- 
ment He consorted only with the overjoyed scientist, 
who ardently longed to return to the Rhineland, and 
he avoided the lonely reaches of hill and canyon 
around. For, even the darkness affrighted him now! 
And on the night winds whistling down from the Rock- 
ies, towering there far above him, their awful unsealed 
citadels already white with snow, that wild wail, "Help, 
Seaton! Help!" seemed to sound, in a woman's last 
appealing cry of loving tenderness! "Let us get out 
of this, Eckfeldt!" demanded Bennett, when, in answer 
to the last of a score of cautiously worded letters, Julie 
Martyn had gladly used the harnessed lightning to bid 
her lover come to claim his reward! Bennett knejv 
now that the secret junta had formally named him in 
their last conclave for the fortunate congressional 
"walk over!" And so they sped away homeward, 
these two returning agents of a hidden syndicate, pre- 
ceded by Bennett's telegraphed words: "The Cyanide 
process is an assured success !" 

Before Professor Eckfeldt had joyously been rebap- 
tized into the colony of flaxen-haired exiles in Little 
Germany, on Third Avenue, in New York city, and 
long before Seaton Bennett had drawn the fair widow 
to his triumphant breast in their hidden rendezvous 
at Schenectady, the two high police oflicials gazed 
blankly in each other's faces when the inspector frank- 
ly said: "Captain! It looks as if we might as well 
throw up our hands ! This is a blind trail ! This Mad- 
eleine Ware affair ! I fear that she has been put away !" 
"Is Bennett back?" demanded the detective. "No! 
He comes to-morrow!" sullenly said the chief. "But, 
what of him?" was the final verdict. "He is not a mad 
fool! He is a made man for life, and he is out of all 
this!" "Then," said the disheartened detective, "If ifs 
no case of a 'double life,' I fear it is a case of a 'single 
dealTi!' I fail to see any motive!" "Don't you know, 
captain," was the chiefs sharp answer, "we always 
build up our inferential motives and the history of these 



CHECKED THROUGH. 231 

cases backwards! I fear that the dark river depths, 
the potter's field, the deep security of a nameless grave, 
hides that beautiful girlP And the chief of four thou- 
sand sighed, as he mournfully laid away a picture of the 
stately orphan's noble, wistful face. "Only one more! 
My God! It's a pretty hard world we live in now! This 
fin de siecle New York! Did she throw herself away? 
Or, was she trapped? Ah! There are as many life 
histories hidden as there are women! I have always 
maintained, Shackelford," said the chief, "that a man 
never knows anything at all about a woman! Now, this 
poor girl surely had her hidden heart history, the past 
story — ^all her own! And, who knows her fate? There 
was a burly, bediamonded man at that very moment 
lording it in the "spirit room" of the Royal Victoria, at 
Queenstown, who was taking his last leave of the Cove 
of Cork before returning to that "state of life to which 
it had pleased God to call him!" The gentleman 
yearning to resume his status of "an influential loaf- 
er," and cheerfully listening to "the Bells of Shandon," 
was Mr. Michael Doolan, who, over a steaming punch 
of "Dunville's V. R.," was slowly deciphering a scrawl 
from James Devlin, "of that ilk," the second political 
factotum of Long Island City. "So, the coast is clear!'* 
mused Red Mike, as he went out on the quay and 
bought several fagots of "blackthorns" for "the boys." 
"1 fancy that I now have my friend Mr. Seaton Ben- 
nett in a close grip! And, he must shell out many a 
cool thousand before he gets that trunk of his back 
again !" Doolan, coarse-minded and cunning, had re- 
volved every possible future complication in his mind! 
"I'll bleed the boy a bit!" he mused. "If he squeals, 
then I'll have him know that there's two of us in it! 
And — Jimmy Devlin will always be square with me! 
There's the Clan-Na-Gael pull, always! For 'my honey 
boy, Bennett,' might just think it to his interest to put 
me out of the way — like that poor charmin' girl — ^after 
he gets the *M. C' and *the widow!' Yes! My boy! 
I'll hold you down tight!" Whereat the pilgrim of 
Erin returned to his pipe and bowl to await the Au- 



232 CHECKED THROUGH. 

rania. "I'm away long enough!" he decided. "The 
convention is near, and election coming right on! 
Money will be flying around, 'Money to bum!' " 

There is a huge yellow fortress on Seventh Avenue 
in New York city, towering high in air above the gray 
stone foundations sweeping a whole block from Fifty- 
Second to Fifty-Third streets! Its eleven stories are 
capped with two square campaniles, with galleries un- 
der their pyramidal roofs, whence the modem Baby- 
lon can be discerned crawling far beyond the Harlem 
River. The yellow firebrick walls, trimmed with red, 
gleam out, sharply punctuated with gloomy black iron 
shutters. Far above the copper tiled roof a lofty flag- 
staff bears the huge pennant lettered "Manhattan Stor- 
age Warehouse." Silent, gloomy and imposing, with 
its heavily iron barred lower windows and guarded en- 
trances, it always prisons wealth and valuables reach- 
ing far into the millions. Its vast crypts hide secrets 
guarded by an army of sphinx-like servitors of lynx- 
eyed keenness. The huge stone mastiff heads at its 
main entrances speak of the tireless fidelity of the 
armed guard of keepers, retainers and firemen of the 
great corporation, "The Manhattan Storage and Ware- 
house Company." 

From its lofty roof a second stronghold of the com- 
pany on Lexington Avenue, can be seen, where another 
mass of the flotsam and jetsam of New York's restless 
dwellers is stored away in nervous times of flitting. 
The huge vans, loaded with precious heaped-up spofl, 
are bodily whisked up far into the airy heights of its 
great vaulted corridors and store vaults by huge ele- 
vators. A vast hall, below, filled with all the art treas- 
ures of a luxurious generation has its marble tiled area, 
with the great steel safe deposit vaults grinning there 
behind their massive gratings. Cages in masonry 
casements are piled high with costly gear to the very 
springing lines of the vaults, and millions in gold — the 
"long green" — ^the crisp bonds — in jewels and in se- 
curities — lie hidden from sight behind the steel double- 
locked doors of the individual compartments. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 233 

Fifty van loads daily make up the reflex tide of 
lovables, while many hundreds of men and women 
lily escorted "behind the bars" add to or take from 
le secret store of prudence, the wages of sin, the thief s 
[under, the gambler's winnings, the schemer's hoards 
r the politician's secreted bribes! Thither come in 
:ealth the unfaithful wife to hide the jewels dearly 
ought in her self-surrender, the erring husband to 
>ck up his anonymous precious letters, the blackmailer 

> hide his tell-tale papers, and so, millionaire and 
:oundrel, statesman and publican, trust blindly alike 

> the keeping of the "company" all the muck raked up 
1 the fierce race for wealth and place! Bright, hard- 
iced girls of the swim, the painted queens of the Ten- 
erloin, peculating clerk and crafty miser, come here 
rith the motto, "Safe bind — safe find!" In the rush 
nd hurry of the daily detail business, deft attendants 
ilently speed the parting and welcome the coming! 
t was without raising his head that the handsome 
representative in charge" pushed over a receipt to Mr. 
*atsey Casey on the day when Red Mike had returned 
•om his little pleasure trip to Montauk Point. "Coq- 
gnts?" "Books." "All right! One year's storage! 
lix dollars! Thank you! Stay! Please give the 
►ostoffice address!" And when A. A., Brooklyn P. O. 
5ox 1758, had been duly credited with "a box of books" 
he young manager carelessly said to a waiting subor- 
inate: "Case of books. Stored for a year. Not 
wanted. Owner gone to Europe. Put it anywhere, 
rell out of the way!" 

Long before Red Mike had pocketed the receipt for 
Mr. A. A., Brooklyn," on Casey's return, the great 
runk, canvas covered so carefully by deft James Dev- 
n, was covered up in a great gloomy hall by a score 
f the day's similar consignments. Before Mr. Seaton 
Bennett arrived to face anxious Hiram Bashford, there 
^ere a hundred tons of boxed heavy goods filling 
very corner of the great room. There in the darkness 
f night reposed the trunk which "Red Mike" had care- 
illy decorated with the check and check strap, first put 



234 CHECKED THROUGH. 

on at Sag Harbor! The huge iron doors of the room 
were only opened to add to the growing pile of "long 
storage'' goods, when an electric light ball, thrown in 
on a flexible wire, illumined the silent crypt in the huge 
fortress of Mammon. 

"I fancy," mused Mr. Michael Doolan, as he walked 
the decks of the Aurania, surging along at sea, "Ben- 
nett will have a bit of a row with the Railroad Company 
when he presents the check for his trunk! Bothera- 
tion! They'll just pay him a good round sum! That's 
all!" Red Mike laughed to himself in the smoking 
room. "He'll want the papers, too, maybe, some day! 
But I'll let him just shove out a few thousand for them! 
He will think that some fellow stole the trunk away out 
of the baggage room at the railroad depot!" And so, 
while Mr. Seaton Bennett flattered himself that the 
"Cyanide process" was a success, and the delighted 
Widow Martyn whispered all her plans for the winter 
to her lover at Schenectady, Red Mike gloated over 
the hiding away of the murderer's trunk. "The very 
devil himself would never look for it there, and when- 
ever I want to I can have Jimmy Devlin hide it away 
forever! But, first, fifty thousand 'plunks,' and a good 
bit over!" was the rascal's greedy prophecy. "I have 
him forever in my power!" 

"There is nothing to hold us apart now, Seaton!" 
whispered the infatuated Mrs. Julie Martyn, as her 
lover left her. "Come back to me! Come to Sara- 
toga! For all is safe now." "Darling! I must go 
down to New York on a little business!" answered 
Bennett, drawing her to him. "Then, back to you! 
And the day after election, you are mine — darling- 
mine — forever I" 

Seaton Bennett, Esquire, counselor at law, now man- 
aging director of the Golden Eagle mine, and proxy- 
holder for the principal owners of the "Eckfeldt Cya- 
nide Gold Extracting Process," was covered with finan- 
cial honors, present and prospective, as he ran the 
gauntlet of a number of reporters from Schenectady 
to Jersey City. In the intervals of love-making, he 



CHECKED THROUGH. 235 

was led to admire the business-like dash and mental 
audacity of the fair widow, Julie Martyn. It was true 
that a long study of men "behind the arras'* of life had 
given the widow a wonderful self-command, gained 
since, as a girl of seventeen, when she first wondered 
at the secrets of the Tweed Ring! "We have incor- 
porated under the New Jersey laws, for many cogent 
reasons,'' smiled Julie Martyn, as she gave her lover 
an endorsed certificate for a thousand of the ten thou- 
sand shares of the new company. "You can stop now 
at Jersey City, take out your certificates, in your own 
name, for different amounts of this little block of 
stock. Talk up the cyanide process everjrwhere! See 
all the journalists and Wall Street men! Your en- 
thusiasm in this will blind those who are jealous of 
you politically, and they will fight each other at the 
convention ! You come in as a dark horse, and a win- 
ning one! Leave all that to me! I will make the 
Nineteenth District nominating convention a petticoat 
assembly! Then — ^after election day — we have the 
world before us, bright and beautiful!" 

Seaton Bennett took the precaution to telegraph in 
advance to Hiram Bashford of his arrival — and the 
g^eat-hearted lawyer was cheered as he called his part- 
ners around him. "Just as I told you!" he vigorously 
cried. "I would like you both here at nine o'clock to- 
morrow. Hear this!" And Bashford read out: 

"Will be at the office nine o'clock to-morrow. Use 
me in any way. Anxious about Miss Ware. Have 
heard nothing from you for two weeks. Out in moun- 
tains hunting and prospecting." 

"There!" said Bashford, "that is the voice of an hon- 
est man! Bennett knows the uptown city better than 
any of us! He is a sportsman, too, and familiar with 
every inch of New York's environs. He may perhaps 
hit on some plan to push along our investigations. I 
will have the detective captain here! I am glad he is 
coming!" 

Argument and demurrer, opponents and clients, 
waited neglected the next day while, with unruffled 
brow, Seaton Bennett listened to the views of the thre«. 



236 CHECKED THROUGH. 

partners. The detective captain narrowly watched 
Bennett's manly bearing. Bashford had rained many 
congratulations on the younger man, and, taking him 
aside, whispered: "How about Congress?" "I've 
something better on hand — ^this new mining process!" 
warmly replied the younger man. "You have brought 
us national honors! That is enough for one year!" 

"Ah! God, Seaton!" cried Bashford, laying his 
hand on the junior's shoulder, "I would give it all- 
laurels, money, the fame of my lonely life — ^just to 
know that poor girl is alive!" "Is there no clew?" fal- 
tered Bennett, agitated at heart. "Not the faintest 
It is a blind trail!" The detective's purring voice ran 
on for an hour, in a series of cautiously framed ques- 
tions. Bennett for years had watched the demeanor of 
erring manhood and silly womanhood on the witness 
stand. His grave solicitude, his quiet poise, never left 
him, and all the secret investigations of Bodley, With- 
ers, Bashford and the police were confirmed by his 
straightforward, manly story. "I introduced Mrs. 
Walton especially to Miss Ware! Mrs. Walton is a 
gifted and warm-hearted woman. I knew that her ac- 
quaintance would be a safeguard to Miss Madeleine, 
for Mrs. Walton has the social 'personal equation' of 
every noticeable man and woman in New York down 
to a dot! I wish to God that she was back here now! 
A woman's eyes always see what is hidden to us men!" 

Seaton Bennett had cleared himself easily! 

There was nothing left to say in the conclave, for 
Bennett promptly volunteered all his services. "I wish 
only a little time to adjust this new company's affairs. 
But only a few hours daily! I will then give up my 
whole leisure to aiding Mr. Bashford! And more, I 
cannot do!" "Well, gentlemen," concluded Bashford, 
"we must now trust to the inspector and to you, cap- 
tain!" The crestfallen detective took his leave, mur- 
muring: "It IS a dead wall around us everywhere! 
From the very moment this lady reached the Harlem 
River she is absolutely untraceable! I am of the in- 
spector's opinion, that Miss Ware herself, wove this 



CHECKED THROUGH. 23') 

cloud of mystery around her to defy the pursuit of 
friends — not enemies! In this strange self-devotion 
she has aided the plans of anyone who would work her 
wrong. It is herself who burned the bridges behind 
her! And — ^there is absolutely no motive!" 

Hiram Bashford drew Seaton Bennett up to his desk 
when the others had gone, and he had locked the doors 
upon them. "There, my dear boy, is the motive!" 
said Bashford, suddenly producing Madeleine Ware's 
last letter. "It only remains for us to find the man!" 
"I would not show this again before them all, for it 
seems to bring up my poor girPs character.'' Hiram 
Bashford's eyes were clouded with tears, and he did 
not see the trembling of Bennett's hands as he eagerly 
perused the fatal letter! 

"It is incomprehensible!" murmured Bennett, when 
he handed the paper back, after a long study. "I will re- 
port to you to-night at your residence ! I must go now 
and open my rooms and settle myself." 

Bashford was moved at Bennett's anxious sympathy 
when the young man convulsively pressed his hand 
at parting. For the senior had said: "You are my 
last hope! I count on you to aid me in this! We must 
find her! For the inspector has frankly told me he is 
baffled! He can do no more!'' 

Seaton Bennett's nerve had quickly returned. "I 
have fooled them all!" he mused, as he sat at his desk 
and smoothed out the snowy certificates of stock in 
the Eckfeldt Company. In an hour he had arranged 
all his personal mail, and he took good care to pass the 
various employes in a secret review. No one seemed to 
gaze distrustfully at him, even the critical woman type- 
writer murmured over the keys: "He looks all broken 
up over this mystery!" The newspapers had been foiled 
of their prey in the budding sensation, as the reporters 
all had the tip that the chase for Madeleine Ware's ene- 
mies was to be a silent war path! Stopping a few 
minutes at his safety deposit company to lock up the 
"Cyanide process" stock, Seaton Bennett then fought 
his way up town past friends eager to "get in on the 



238 CHECKED THROUGH. 

J round floor," and the reporters stirred up by Mrs. 
ulie Martyn's unseen finger! The very first duty of 
Seaton Bennett, M. C. in future, in arriving at his own 
rooms was to give the jubilant janitor the brass trunk 
check which Red Mike had sent on to the Southern 
Hotel, St. Louis. "There's a five dollar bill, Morton r* 
genially cried Bennett. "Send an express wagon at 
once over to Long Island City. The trunk is in the 
baggage room there. It's full of valuable papers. Tell 
the man to hurry, and be careful with it!" Then, while 
the Cerberus hastened away, Seaton Bennett sank into 
a comfortable chair! The prospect of his future life 
had never been as alluring as now! For he saw the 
dome of the Capitol loom up over him. He heard his 
own mellow voice re-echoing from the vaulted roof 
of the House of Representatives' splendid hall, and 
there, too, in the members' box, he could picture "Mrs. 
Seaton Bennett," the woman who was now so craftily 
grooming the dark horse of the Nineteenth District! 
"Yes ! The 'Cyanide process' is a success !" he gloated, 
as he turned over an accumulated private mail. "As 
for this trouble, it will blow over! They are all a pack 
of damned fools. And, no one will ever know!" Mr. 
Bennett finished a cosy luncheon at his club and 
strolled back to his rooms in high good humor, for a 
perfumed billet, pulled out of a pyramid of mail, told 
him that Mrs. Julie Martyn would be at home at once. 
"I come incognito," she wrote, "for they are 'making 
hostile slates' for the nominating convention, and I 
must be there — ^to break them. Come up to-morrow 
evening. I am at home — but only to you!" "What 
a woman! What a woman!'' joyously reflected Ben- 
nett, for the confidential intimacy of these last three 
months before the election would chase away all mem- 
ories of the distant lonely stone house, shaken with 
storms and wrapped in mist wreaths, where the sea 
gulls screamed around far Montauk Point! The scoun- 
drel never gave a thought to the white-robed figure 
which he had seen, a lovely wraith, at the half opened 
window, the outstretched arms, for the last ringing cry. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 239 

'Help! Seaton! Help!" sounded no longer on his 
ars! 

There was a bothered look on the janitor's face as 
Jennett entered his own hallway. The smile quickly 
aded from the happy dreamer's face as the wagon- 
Iriver took up explanations in chorus: "Sorry to say, 
ir, that your trunk is missing, Mr. Bennett! The 
.gent at Long Island City, thinks, however, that it may 
lot have been transferred at Babylon. The *Montauk 
ocaP stops there. Your trunk was waybilled all right, 
nd it was checked through. No. 17580. They have 
elegjaphed up to Babylon and Sag Harbor about it. 
Vhat shall we do? You must wait!" 

"Never mind the five dollars. Keep the change," 
aid the startled lover. "I'll go over myself and see 
.bout it. The papers were very valuable!" 

Bennett was the recipient of an ovation from Mr. 
^atrick Casey, who represented the absent Doolan, 
vhen he entered the gin palace of the still absent poli- 
ician late on the evening of this annoying incident. 

"Give me a good room up stairs, Casey," said the 
awyer sharply. "And send up a bottle of wine and 
ome good cigars. Come up yourself. I wish to see 
ou. When is Doolan expected?" 

"He's on the Aurania, to be here in four days" was 
he barkeeper's answer. "What's gone wrong?" 

"I'll tell you upstairs," moodily said Bennett, stalk- 
ig away, while the words "Congressman," "million- 
ire lawyer," followed him in the husky whispers of an 
dmiring crowd. 

In ten minutes, Casey knew all Seaton Bennett's 
rouble. "I am very busy. This trunk affair is im- 
ortant — ^vastly important," said the lawyer. "Those 
amned railroad fellows appear to have lost my trunk. 
Tiey offer to pay if it's not found. My check is all 
ight. They have put all their freight detectives at work 
nd will advertise at once. Austin Corbin's old rattle- 
rap may land a piece of baggage anjrwhere. Now, 
(lis trunk's full of papers that money cannot replace. 
Tou must watch this daily for me till Doolan returns. 



2iO CHECKED THROUGH. 

Here's my house card. Telegraph me there. Til come 
over myself and open it and see it has not been robbed. 
You must telegraph me Doolan's arrivaL I'll go down 
to the steamer and meet him." 

"There'll be a dozen associations in line," proudly 
said Casey. 

"Damn the associations! I want my lost trunk/ 
was Bennett's rejoinder. "By the way, did Doolan 
perhaps bring it back over here and store it? I was in 
St. Louis, but he sent the check there." 

"I'll examine and report in the morning," was 
Casey's dutiful response. 

There was a little lingering cloud no bigger than a 
man's hand on Seaton Bennett's happiness when he 
clasped the ardent Julie Martyn in his arms the next 
evening. For, Casey had promptly reported that Doo- 
lan only brought one trunk, his fishing traps, back from 
the week's journey. "There it stands, unopened, now," 
said the innocent Casey, who knew not that Doolan 
had slyly shipped that dunnage of his own back by the 
Sag Harbor boat, with all a scoundrel blackmailer's 
cunning forethought. And the obsequious authorities 
of the railroad could not content Seaton Bennett with 
even the most liberal offers of carte blanche remun.era- 
tion. 

"You see, Julie," muttered Bennett to his coming 
bride, "your own letters and your dearest picture were 
in it." In a sudden spasm of fear he trembled at heart 
lest "Red Mike'' might have carelessly packed up some 
of gentle Madeleine Ware's womanly gear therein. 
"He's only a drunken fool," glowered Bennett. In the 
glow of their dual castle building, Bennett forgot these 
gloomy forebodings, until he smartly questioned "the 
Honorable Michael Doolan,'* when the tug delivered 
him alive, but half drunk, from the Aurania's lofty side 
to the "J. J. McGinnis," the "A. O. H." and various 
other "associations," whose discordant bands brayed 
out "Hail to the Chief." 

"Away to hell with yer trunk!" roared the reckless 
Doolan. "I sent ye the check on to St. Louis, as ye 



CHECKED THROUGH. 241 

tould me. Sue the bloody company and make thim 
find it." 

"I must wait till this low rascal is sober," reluctantly 
decided Bennett, turning away disgusted. And then 
the desirability of some untoward accident happening 
to "Red Mike" first entered Seaton Bennett's excited 
brain. "It would be a good thing if his mouth were 
closed forever," mused Bennett, and he revolved the 
possibility of the "Cyanide process" working a second 
time. "Cyanide money may pay someone to sand- 
bag the life out of him some dark night, but only after 
I am elected," was the cowardly murderer's welcome to 
his whilom tool and secret agent. But a new "suaviter 
in modo" daily diffused itself over Bennett's hidden ex- 
citement. The nominating convention was named and 
the rising man listened to Julie Martyn's masterly 
sketches of the situation from day to day. All smiled 
upon the rising sun of this autumn Napoleon of dark- 
horse politics. He was safe. For Blake and Bodley 
were driving along the legal engine, toiling at the 
wheels, while Hiram Bashford held the throttle again. 
The haunting every-day cares of life came to busy all 
the seekers after lost Madeleine Ware. 

Seaton Bennett adroitly glided into Hiram Bash- 
ford's every confidence, and but one unexpected ordeal 
unmanned him entirely. It was when he was suddenly 
called in to face Mrs. Florence Renwick, her husband 
and her burly brother, Hugh Atwater. Under three 
sets of prying eyes, Bennett went over for the last time 
his cleanly riveted tale of all the incidents of Made- 
leine Ware's uptown life. He felt reasonably safe, for 
Mrs. Walton had returned to add her verdict of "a mys- 
terious disappearance" to the general voice. 

Bennett had sworn on his honor to Minnie Walton 
that he was without a clue. 

"I fancied once that you were secretly devoted to 
her, Seaton," the journalist said, "but I believe you. 
I know you to be utterly selfish, and I do not think 
you generous enough, even to your burning passions, 
to take any great risk. You play a safety game in life.'' 



242 CHECKED THROUGH. 

But Bashford's manner showed some slight estrange- 
ment after Florence Renwick had departed. Hugh At- 
water was gravely courteous, but Florence Renwick's 
eyes had blazed with an ill-concealed hostility. "I shall 
always believe that he knows something. I distrust 
that sleek, ready man. He is too ready. If he did not 
lure Madeleine away, how do you know that he did not 
outrage her pride in some mean way and so, drive 
her away? He is in the line of promotion. She would 
simply disappear, and never accuse him, for what 
woman will beg the question on her own honor? A 
man can say or imply now in safety, what rivers of 
blood would not wash out twenty years ago.'' 

Hiram Bashford was disturbed, yet not convinced, 
for, after all, Flossie had never been known to be mis- 
taken in her intuitions. 

So Bennett deemed it wise to strengthen all his 
fortifications. "I am willing to throw up my con- 
tract now and leave the firm," he briskly said, two 
weeks later, noticing Bashford's continued withdrawal 
into his own shell. "I have just cleared two hundred 
thousand dollars in this mining venture, and I am 
willing to take a rest of a couple of years.'* 

To his great surprise, Bashford only coldly said: "I 
will leave all that to Blake and Bodley, Bennett. You 
must speak to them. I shall soon retire and leave my 
firm interest to the disposition of those two gentlemen.'* 

Seaton Bennett's stiff bow of wounded dignity car- 
ried him out of Bashford's inmost counsels forever. So, 
with an eager heart, he now turned to the coming con- 
gressional convention of the Nineteenth District. The 
vast town was busied with breaks and scandals in the 
Four Hundred and many "tenderloin upheavals." It 
was generally conceded that the flitting of Miss Made- 
leine Ware could be easily explained in the words of 
the homely poet, "Gone with a handsomer man." For 
steadfast old Hiram Bashford was now left to nurse his 
sorrows alone. The lynx-eyed detectives of the coun- 
try could find nothing to warrant the inspector in using 
any more of Hiram Bashford's money. "I'd like to 



CHECKED THROUGH. 243 

soften the blow/' said the chief to Bodley, whom he had 
sent for. "I am afraid Miss Ware quietly selected 
someone to rule her life, and has simply given Bashford 
the slip. It's not what we like to see women do, but it's 
what they often do," sighed the baffled inspector. 

Seaton Bennett was more than usually bland and 
courteous in his last office dealings and he carried the 
mask, until seated beside Julie Martyn in her cosy 
library one auspicious evening, a trusty member of the 
three fellow candidates dashed up to the door of the res- 
idence, the bringer of good tidings. There were silver- 
necked bottles in waiting as he joyously cried: 

"Nominated on the thirty-ninth ballot." 

"Tell me all," said the laughing Julie. 

"The two others stood in a deadlock,'' gasped the 
excited friend. "DoUiver had the tip. He made a few 
remarks in the interest of harmony. Hagadorn then 
withdrew his man, and you were unanimously nomi- 
nated after the half-way count showed that you had 
snowed the other man under. Let me now congratu- 
late you both!" 

"There's my hand on it," laughed Mrs. Martyn, as 
Seaton Bennett led her into the dining hall. And so, 
lightly they spoke of the men who had been "turned 
down" at a nod from the silent Caesar of Tammany 
Hall. Bennett's star was in the zenith of glory now. 
The election was a mere formality. 

It was on the evening of a day two months later, 
while Hiram Bashford was a lonely passenger bound 
for New Castle, that he opened one of the sheaf of even- 
ing journals which he had purchased in the vain hope of 
news of Madeleine Ware, for now, alas, hopes and fears 
were the same. He started as he read the words, "The 
election of the Honorable Seaton Bennett, Nineteenth 
District, is a brilliant testimonial to that rising young 
lawyer. His assured majority is over eight thousand." 

Hiram Bashford then saw the light slowly breaking 
at last. "I'm sorry for the profession. We have driven 
Bennett out of the firm by the worrying ^nnoyance of 



244 CHECKED THROUGH. 

this affair of Madeleine, and he is a far sounder lawyer 
than either Blake or Bodley." 

That night the mansion of Mrs. Julie Martyn was 
ablaze with lights. There was a stream of carriages ar- 
riving and departing. Under a floral bell of ex- 
quisite orchids Mrs. Seaton Bennett received the con- 
gratulations of fifty astonished friends. Their delight 
was not unmixed with a dull envy. And then, in the 
stillness of their luxurious home that night, the light- 
hearted woman, whose every wish on earth was now 
gratified, whispered, "Seaton, the very moment you 
have your certificate of election let us go down to 
Washington and take a look at the Capitol." 

He drew her to him in a passionate embrace. "I 
have but one little affair to attend to,'' he laughingly 
said. "Then, as now, I am yours." 

And the next day. Red Mike received Seaton Ben- 
nett's check for fifty thousand dollars. 

The Long Island Railroad Company's attorneys 
were, however, ruefully examining the papers in a suit 
for twenty-five thousand dollars, the value of trunk 
No. 17580, checked through from Sag Harbor to Long 
Island City, July 18, 1892. "We may as well settle the 
case,'' said the junior lawyer. "Bennett has just been 
elected to Congress and Doolan himself checked the 
trunk through for his friend. Doolan is a great power 
on Long Island, and Seaton Bennett has all Tammany 
Hall behind him now." 

"We'll make him prove its contents and value," 
growled the senior. "We can then stave him off for a 
couple of years on appeal, but I suppose that we'll have 
to pay for it finally, unless we can fix the jury." 

"Fix a jury, with Red Mike on the other side." The 
younger man laughed skeptically, and then went out 

While the Honorable Seaton Bennett proudly es- 
corted his enraptured wife over the nation's great Cap- 
itol he mused, "I am safe now. It was really good pol- 
icy to pay Doolan myself, out of my mining money, 
for Julie will be as wax in my hands, any way. She 
must never dream of any hold of this low brute, *Red 



CHE)CKBD THROUGH. 245 

Mike/ on the Honorable Seaton Bennett. If he were 
Dnly out of the way." Seaton Bennett longed "to make 
assurance doubly sure." 

He knew not that the devil was busily fighting for his 
own. For Mr. Michael Doolan had paid his mortgage 
off at last, with the price of Madeleine Ware's un- 
avenged blood, and, with his heelers around him, was 
very fast drinking himself to the verge of insanity in a 
grand bacchanalian and political glorification of the 
"victory." Whereat Patsey Casey, looking to the future, 
and mindful of Mrs. Doolan's very substantial charms, 
winked as he took his own light cocktail. "It will be 
an elegant business for me to fall into. Mike is doing 
himself no good!" 

And in all these long months the shadows of dark- 
ness, day and night, shrouded the silent vault in the 
Manhattan Company's vast warehouse, where the great 
trunk marked "A. A., Brooklyn," awaited the return of 
that "gentleman in Europe," who might want "his 
books.'' 



CHAPTER XII. 

HOUNDED DOWN. LOST! TRUNK NO. 17680. 

The glow of pride in Seaton Bennett's remarkable 
political coup de main was chilled in the great Nassau 
Street law office by a feeling that the firm had now lost 
forever its most active member. For the ag^ng Hiram 
Bashford now sat sulking in his great lonely rooms, 
only answering in curt monosyllables the querulous 
calls of Bodley or careless Blake's snappy requests for 
''explicit" instructions. The whole office force felt that 
all things were strangely going wrong. 

There was now no quick, alert Seaton Bennett to 
untangle the daily confusion. Even the parchment- 



246 CHECKED THROUGH. 

faced head clerk, Withers, groaned under an increas- 
ing load. "Ask Miss Ware," had been hitherto also an 
all-round means of obtaining ready help. It was known 
to them all through that the brilliant junior had "drawn 
out for good." 

"What should he slave for?" proudly remarked With- 
ers. "A gold mine, a millionairess wife, and a seat in 
Congress! He has vaulted over the head of this whole 
lot, and is on his way to the Senate. Ah, there is a 
man. Bashford and Bennett could put away a dozen 
pairs like Blake and Bodley in the lost room in their 
craniums. But the old man is done for! He has thrown 
up the sponge." 

It was indeed true. A dull glaze seemed to crawl 
across Hiram Bashford's far-searching eyes, his moods 
became almost savage. He lived partly in a happy past, 
now fled forever, and the rest of his lonely hours were 
simply a dull devotion to a mechanical search of all the 
environs of New York for the still missing Madeleine 
Ware. Every chief of police within five hundred miles 
of New York City had been furnished with a copy of 
the last photograph, taken at Castle Atwater, of the 
modem Portia. A minute personal description penned 
by the distracted Florence Renwick was printed upon 
the back of these "counterfeit presentments'' of the 
loved and lost 
. Bodley and Blake were also in a secret mystery now. 

"I feel that Bashford has put his foot in it," rebelled 
Blake. "Here is Bennett, rich, powerful and a rising 
man, and he has really been elbowed out of the office 
by this hub-bub about Miss Ware. I am perfectly sure 
that she will yet turn up in some snug new relation of 
life, with some younger and more attractive man than 
Bashford. You see, Bodley," he continued, "Miss Ware 
well knew that her very confidential relations with our 
senior might frighten off any really eligible man. The 
world misconstrues so easily. Bashford has had no 
eyes for anything but that girl since she first crossed 
our threshold and, whatever be the solution of the 
mystery, it has almost broken up our firm. Bennett 



CHECKED THROUGH. 247 

never even looked once in Miss Ware's direction, for 
his political backing, the mine and this process of such 
wondrous value all came with the woman he married. 
He kept all this very quiet for fear that it might hurt 
his election. He never even breathed it to me.'' 

"Ah, Blake, it's far easier to marry a fortune than to 
make one," sighed Bodley, whose cormorant fashion- 
able wife kept him "on the jump." She had only 
brought as a dower to him "her airs and graces." "I 
do hope Bennett will not drop you and me," continued 
the cautious Bodley. "I will have my wife call on Mrs. 
Bennett at once. If Bashford retired, I fancy we can 
yet draw Bennett back to us. You must follow him 
up in the clubs." 

In this wise Hiram Bashford had managed to loosen 
nearly all the ties which bound him, giving way to a 
sullen discontent and brooding along in a vain repin- 
ing for Madeleine Ware. 

The "slush" journals were soon full of the remark- 
ably active social and political movements of the am- 
bitious wedded lovers on their return from Washington. 
A magic touch had infused a new life into the richly 
mounted home oh Murray Hill. When the Honorable 
Seaton Bennett's carriage paused before the Nassau 
Street office a fortnight later, he came in as a client of 
the firm for the first time. Bodley and Blake took their 
cue at once from his stately cordiality. "I have a really 
important trust to place in your hands," he said, with 
some anxiety. "Mrs. Bennett and I are going for a 
two months' cruise in the West Indies on her yacht, the 
'Raven.' Her widowhood naturally kept her from any 
extended voyage. As I do not take my seat till March 
5> '93> I can thus easily avoid the swarms of office-seek- 
ers and those men who always annoy even a member- 
elect. Here is the affair." And the young statesman 
handed out a copy of a general circular issued by the 
Long Island Railroad Company under date November 
I, 1892. 

"This is a strange case. When I ran up to the Sound 
last summer on the 'Raven,' " he blushed slightly, "I 



248 CHECKED THROUGH. 

got off at Sag Harbor and then went down to the Long 
Island Sporting Club's place for a last secret politicd 
conference before going out West to the *Golden 
Eagle/ I hastened on to Baltimore, as I wished to 
avoid the active spies of the other candidates, and I 
left behind my Tammany friends, who acted on my be- 
half with full power. IVe a good responsible witness, 
Doolan, of Long Island City, who checked this trunk 
for me. The trunk is filled with the most valuable pri- 
vate papers, my wardrobe, and also some of the unfin- 
ished business of the firm. IVe akeady told Withers 
to get these lost papers up, at my expense, for you." 
The two lawyers bowed politely. "Now, as to the rail- 
road company. They have made every search. Wil- 
kins, their baggage agent at Sag Harbor, was torn all 
to pieces in a coupling accident there the other day. 
He was the man who checked No. 17580 through, and 
so the company is at a loss as to whether it is strayed or 
stolen. It might have been thrown out of the open car 
door at Babylon by sneak thieves while the train was 
making up there. There is five hours' delay in the last 
train which leaves Amagansett on the Montauk divis- 
ion at 2:20 p. m., arriving at Babylon 4:50, leaving 
there at 10 p. m., and arriving at last at Long Island 
City depot at 1 1 :25 mi night. Now, Corbin and Rey- 
nolds have combed the whole of Long Island for this 
lost trunk. I want the property — not the money sued 
for. It would uamage me greatly ,'' the Congressman 
gloomily said, these papers fell into other hands." 

"What shall be done?'' cried the two ex-partners in a 
breath. 

"Make them find it, and no compromise! I'll have 
that trunk or the twenty-five thousand dollars. It will 
be a lesson to them." The young favorite of fortune 
rose. "Here is the trunk check. You see it is all 
straight. *Sag Harbor to Long Island City.' Lock it 
up in your safe deposit vaults. It is what the French 
would call 'a piece de conviction.' I will have the Long 
Island City lawyer send you over the papers and you 
can be substituted. Keep him in as counsel, for he 



CHECKED THROUGH. 249 

controls Doolan, my only witness." Seaton Bennett 
paused with a curious smile and drew out a check- 
book. "Shall I give you now a retainer?" he demanded. 

"Nonsense," heartily cried the others. "Come over 
to the Lawyers' Club and lunch with us," was the cau- 
tious Bodley's pressing demand. "We want you to join 
Blake and myseL after you are tired of Congress. We 
could make a strong team." 

And so, while Bashford played the discontented 
Ajax, the three younger men pledged each other over 
the ringing crystal brims "to the future firm." Nothing 
succeeds like success, here below! 

Bennett was particularly well satisfied with himself 
as he descended at the Murray Hill residence where 
his darling wife awaited him with sparkling eyes. 
"Seaton! The captain reports the Raven all in sea 
trim. He awaits your orders!" she said, with a pretty 
blush. "Can we leave to-morrow evening?" "Un- 
less some unforeseen event occurs, Julie!" smiled Ben- 
nett, taking up a sheaf of letters. "I will run these 
morning letters over and then see the skipper!" His 
face was clouded as he thrust one of the letters in his 
pocket and strode into the library. "Get ready for 
sea! I depend absolutely on you! Don't have a pin- 
head missing! We will come aboard at four o'clock 
to-morrow evening. Have the steam launch waiting 
at the Battery then !" 

Bennett turned to the happy woman who had fol- 
lowed him. "Julie! Are all your own outfittings 
ready? Nothing to delay us? I will have a tug ready 
to tow us to Sandy Hook, and we must not dally after 
starting! I want to make a good offing in the night!" 
"Trust to me! I am right to the last ribbon!" was her 
laughing reply. "Then, go it is! At four!" said the 
statesman, dismissing the bronzed sailor. As Cap- 
tain Hank Moulton walked briskly away he muttered: 
"It certainly could not ave been the madame! The 
other lady was much taller, and just a bit spryer. I 
should say she was ten years younger! I wonder if 
the madame knows of that little fly-away dash last 



250 GHEX3KED THROUGH. 

summer from Greenport to Sag Harbor! He must 
have left that girl down at Cape May! Oh! He's a 
sly one — this sharp-eyed lawyer!" The skipper judi- 
ciously dropped the investigation, for many a stolen 
hour had been enjoyed upon the saucy "Raven** by 
beauties who were "officially" on land, when, in the 
flesh, playing mermaid in the days when the yacht was 
at the disposition of Mrs. Julie Martyn's dashing Tam- 
many friends! "She has a romantic record, I should 
say!" was the captain's last remark, as he turned in and 
"spliced the main brace" at a near-by saloon. He was 
a veteran in the summer pleasuring of the "newer man 
and woman" of the Atlantic coast, and had seen some 
little festivities to which the frolics of Aspasia, the 
pranks of Cleopatra, the idle hours of Tiberius, and 
Lucrezia Borgia's Venetian nights with Bianca Capel- 
lo, were merely "back numbers" — ^just out of date 
wickedness, fallen into "innocuous desuetude!" For 
a thousand special deviltries aid the mad race for 
pleasure in these modern "go as you please days!" 
Hank Moulton had a just appreciation of a "soft 
thing" and a permanent situation. He, too, followed 
the wholesome advice of the great Croker: "Give 
nothing away!" 

Mrs. Julie Bennett was a sparkling realization of the 
uncrowned American queen as she was handed to her 
carriage by her handsome young husband. "Don't 
wait dinner, Julie! I have to run over to Long Island 
City about that beastly law suit. But it is the last 
parting before we see the Pearl of the Antilles and all 
that! I'll be home before nine!" 

When the laughing face was borne away, Seaton 
Bennett stood a moment, entranced, for two slender 
fingers blew him back a pretty signalled kiss! "By 
God! She is worth it all!" he growled, as he turned 
and ascended to his private room. He did not forget 
to read over again the brief note from Patsey Casey 
of "Doolan's palatial resort," after he had g^ven his 
man directions for the packing of his whole outfit. 



CHECKED THROUGH. 251 

Bennett carefully reloaded a substantial revolver and 
slipped it in the pocket of his overcoat. 

"Get me a coupe at once!" he directed, and then, he 
cast a glance at the leaden skies, whence the crisp 
breezes were already whirling the finest particles of a 
feathery snow squall. "What can this fool mean?" 
he growled, as he rolled away to the Long Island 
ferry. Casey's scrawled letter was brief and very 
much to the point. It brought a sudden rage into 
Seaton Bennett's heart. "I'll grind this damned fool 
to powder if he bothers me now! By heavens! Til 
make Casey let the beast drink himself to death! Some 
of his own *knock-out drops' might help! And Casey 
will grab the widow and the gin mill." 

But the letter — ^this letter from Casey! Its words 
were ominous: 

"The old man is drinking himself blind. And— 
he's threatening you! And talking too much! If I 
were you, I'd come over and bring him to rights! This 
is for you alone! There's trouble coming!" 

"Patsey Casey shall watch him, and be well paid, 
too!" was Seaton Bennett's comforting decision. He 
was delighted at the secret hold he had gained upon 
Bashford's partners. "Once out of the way, Doolan 
can't bother me till March, and the brute may be dead 
then!'^ was the last cheering hope which the congress- 
man carried to Doolan's saloon. 

Patsey Casey came swiftly out from behind the bar 
when he saw the young congressman. "For heaven's 
sake! Come with me!" the young man cried, as he 
led Bennett into a tenantless poker room. "Doolan 
is ugly, half ways dangerous! I'm afraid to have you 
see him alone!" "Oh! I am all right!" coldly said 
Bennett, tapping the handy revolver in his breast pock- 
et. "Ah! That would never do! There's too many 
of the friends mixed up in this, for a quarrel! Think 
of your name down there at Washington ! Had I not 
better go in with you? The old woman and me are 
the only ones as can manage the *boss!'" "Just tell 
him that I am here !" was the cool remark of the vis- 



252 CHECKED THROUGH. 

itor. "I am pretty patient, and IVe seen many a j 
drunken man before! Besides, I'm going to Cuba for 
a couple of months on my yacht. I'll see otu* friendly 
lawyer over here, and he'U very soon stop Doolan's 
mouth!'' 

"Well, if the old man doesn't taper off, old Jimmy 
Devlin will 'stop his mouth' with a few shovelfuls of 
clay, for good ! Do you give him a good talking to! 
Bluff him down a bit! But, he's very masterful!" was 
Casey's parting injunction. Seaton Bennett found 
Red Mike in no gentle mood! Seated at a table, with 
the implements of the bibulous art around him, he 
never rose, but only gruffly nodded when the lawyer 
entered. "Just my man!'' was the frowsy publican's 
salutation. "I hear yer a goin' away. I want some 
money before you go! A good wad of it, too! D'ye 
hear? No *nickel in the slot,' but a good roll!'' 

"Who are you talking to?" sharply said Bennett, 
locking the door. "I've already paid you all I owe 
you — and more, too! If you are decent and civil, 
I'm ready to stand in, but don't you try to bully 'ihe! 
It won't work!" "I want ye to lave a good bit of 
money in the bank here, that's all!" defiantly said 
Doolan, rising as Bennett sprang up, for the "round- 
er's" eyes were ugly. "Yer going on a weddin' trip 
with the woman I got ye!" "I paid you all that I 
agreed," snarled Bennett, backing away from the 
whisky fumes. "Ye've not paid me for this g^rl — ^this 
Madeleine!" There was a loud crash, and then the 
table and glasses went over in a general wreck, as 
Bennett clutched the throat of the frenzied loafer. 
There was murder gleaming in the lawyer's eye, but 
he could not yet loosen his hold to draw the weapon in 
his breast pocket. Casey's "prophetic instinct" led him 
to break in the door at once, and followed by a brace 
of the attendants, to part the men wildly struggling on 
the floor. "Here now! By God! This'll never do!" 
was the irate bar keeper's protest. "Men of your 
standing fighting like two 'snide pugs !' What does it 
all mean, Doolan? I'll tell ye! We've had a week of 



CHECKED THROUGH. 253 

yer tantrums! The Missus '11 get a warrant for ye! 
And we^l run the place without ye! Now, I'll war- 
rant ye have insulted Mr. Bennett!'' 

To the general astonishment, "Red Mike" dropped 
into a limp heap in a chair. "I was all wrong! There'll 
be no more! Leave us for two minutes, and I'm done! 
I'll apologize!" The whisky courage had left Red 
Mike! At a nod from Bennett the three men left the 
room. "I'm in the hall!" truculently said Casey. 
"And no more shindies !" When the door was closed 
"Red Mike" whispered in a last taunting sneer: "Ye 
thought ye'd *do me up !' I'll tell ye now that I have 
all the points on ye, Mr. Bennett!" 

The lawyer writhed in agony, as Red Mike's leer 
told of a new danger. "I got that girl's picture from 
the chief of police here ! I'll land ye at a wink if ye 
abuse me. And there's two of us in this deal! The 
other man has the picture now in his safe — and he's 
the man that helped me pack yer missing trunk — ^and 
to put the girl away! And he knows where she is — 
and how she got there,too! And, I have yer rig, and 
all her traps, too! D'ye think me fool enough to have 
trusted myself alone with you? I brought him up at 
night from Sag Harbor and hid him in the sand hills 
near the house! So, I'm safe now in yer hands, Mr. 
Seaton Bennett, for he'll send ye 'to the chair,' if any- 
thing happens to me! He'd hound ye down to the 
gates of hell, for he's a Clan-Na-Gael man! D'ye 
catch on to me now?" 

The walls seemed to swing around the statesman- 
to-be in a wild dance as the blood left his heart in a 
gasp. "You scoundrel!" he hissed, as his arms 
dropped helplessly at his side. "Did he — did he see 
the girl?" "Of course he did!" sullenly blurted out 
Doolan. "I couldn't manage the job alone! I could 
trust him then. I can trust him now! He knows 
where she is, too!" Bennett groaned and covered his 
eyes! "So, ye've got two to deal with, and ye can 
just consider us as two partners in yer gold mine! Ye 
thought to sneak away and give me nothing! Now, 



254 CHECKED THROUGH. 

shall I call all these men in and tell them what I know 
of ye? A word to yer ould friend Bashford — ^and he'd 
crucify ye! Ye cold-hearted devil! Now, do ye 
know whafs what?'' 

"Mike! For God's sake! Tell me there was noth- 
ing left in the trunk! If they should find it! Is there 
nothing of hers in it?" Seaton Bennett was almost 
imploring in his sudden break down! "Yer a damned 
fool, as well as a coward !" said Doolan, as he smoothed 
down his disarranged garb. "Do you think my friend 
and me would risk our own necks? No! Not a 
splinter is there! If ye'd a been a man, ye'd a packed 
yer own damned trunk yerself! Now, these detec- 
tives are nosing all over Long Island! Mayhap the 
girl was followed ! If I was you, I'd get out, and stay 
out! They'll catch ye yet!" 

"It's too late to stop this suit! They have adver- 
tised a big reward! I must let it go on now!'' mur- 
mured Bennett, gazing appealingly at the Irishman. 
"That's all your own business — not mine! Theyll 
never find the trunk!'' significantly said Doolan. "The 
papers, maybe, might turn up!" "What money do 
you want now?" was Bennett's next question. "I 
want ten thousand dollars — 'till the next time!" fierce- 
ly said Doolan. "And I'll lave ye my partner as a 
legacy when I die! Ye're a cold-hearted wretch! Give 
me a check for the money — ^and get out ! The woman's 
far too good for ye that ye have bamboozled with yer 
damned airs!" 

Bennett's hand drew out his check book from the 
pocket where the revolver was hidden. "There is 
what you want!" he said, as his wolfish eyes searched 
Doolan's brutal face. "Tell me! Does the other man 
know where the trunk is? I would make terms with 
him! I'd give him half that the railroad pays me to 
get it safe out of its hiding!" "Ax me no questions, 
and I'll tell ye no lies!*' said Doolan, slipping the check 
in his wallet. "If ye were not a fool, ye would see that 
if the trunk was traced to us, it would ruin us all! Fm 
clear of the whole thing! And ye have enough to do 



CHECKED THROUGH. 255 

to dodge ould Bashford, for the chief here tells me 
that all the money for this girl hunting is put up by the 
ould boy! He'd crucify ye, if he ever finds ye out! 
Watch him, and let me alone. The old boy may die, 
and then the thing'U blow over! Don't yer see yer 
one enemy?" 

It was a bit of Doolan's strategy to now amiably 
convoy the Honorable Seaton Bennett below to where 
a score of men welcomed the congressman-elect. "I'll 
have to ask ye for places for some of my friends here!" 
proudly remarked Red Mike, "by and by — ^when ye're 
aisy in yer chair at Washington !" Mr. Bennett called 
up the whole house! 

"Any man recommended by Mr. Doolan is my 
friend," he said with a becoming grace. And as he 
walked away to the ferry boat he gazed ?.t tne dark 
flowing tide of the East River, mirroring the peaceful 
evening stars! "I wish to God that this brute would 
fall overboard in a drunken fit some dark night! I'll 
speak to Casey!" Bennett had parted from "Red 
Mike" with no attempt at friendship or reconciliation. 
"I'll guard this end, never fear! You'll not ever 
know my partner. If any man ever tackles you, you 
can just bluff the Hfe out of him. Do you think th^c 
I'd give you the name of my silent partner? It'ud not 
be healthy for him, nor for me! I'm too ould a bird! 
Now ye can press on yer suit and bleed the company 
for that twenty-five thousand! If any man living 
turns up with those papers, I'll get them for ye, on 
the dead square — for half yer stealings from ould Cor- 
bin ! Some of the boys may have gone through it — 
and a mighty good job for ye! They'll steal all the 
traps and plant the papers! So ye're safe now with 
yer kicksy-wicksy widow! But, mind ye, Mr. Ben- 
nett, when I work the business end, do ye come up 
with the dust!" Red Mike strolled away as the ferry 
boat pulled out, and with a sigh of relief dropped his 
hand from a pistol butt in his side coat pocket. "He's 
safe now! He'll never mutiny again!" growled the 
thug, as he lounged into the bar. And Seaton Ben- 



256 CHECKED THROUGH. 

nett, pallid-faced, murmured: "I must buy this brute's 
silence! It would not do to follow him up! For 
there are two of them hounding me down!" 

In the remotest hamleta of Long Island, from Mon- 
tauk and Greenport, to Oyster Bay and Wading River, 
from Long Beach to Hicksville, the keen-eyed vil- 
lagers were all eagerly looking for the trunk whose 
checked number, "17580,'' was baited with the offer of 
a thousand dollars reward, "and no questions asked,'' 
for its recovery. The silver sails of the "Raven'' were 
gleaming far away where the surges of Salvador and 
the white foam line of the Windward Islands flecked 
the blue before Seaton Bennett's nerves had resumed 
all their accustomed equilibrium! But, these were 
sunny and happy days for the Congressman's lovely 
wife, wnc '"ad left all her cares behind in Gotham, now 
given over to the wintry blasts and the whirling, eddy- 
ing snow! It was a time of perfect joy and peace for 
the whilom Julie Martyn! She counted the days un- 
til the assembling of that Congress which was to be 
for her the opening of a new and splendid social ex- 
istence! A life lifted above all the shadows of the 
past and splendid in the sweeping party triumph and 
all the reflected glories of her talented husband! The 
"Raven" glided along smoothly under the loveliest win- 
ter skies on the globe! From Bermuda to luxiu'ious 
Havana, and on to the tangled ocean network of 
jeweled Caribbean islands, the homes erstwhile of the 
vanished buccaneer! In the varied panorama of foam- 
wreathed reefs, and of palm fringed keys, of opal 
clouds and emerald seas, Seaton Bennett's cares were 
at last shaken lightly away as the wind strips 
the needles of the forest pines! The boundless 
ambition of his sparkling-eyed wife had infused 
him now with a new courage! He forgot all the 
threats of the brutal-faced Red Mike, he lost 
the "hidden partner" of that ruffian's crimes from 
memory! On the splendid yacht, in the dim 
watches of the night, the tapping bell told only of a 
vigilant crew and a loyal sailing master! There was 



CHECKED THROUGH. 257 

a new bloom glowing now on Julie Bennett's tinted 
cheeks and a glad and happy light in her eyes. Seated 
on the quarter deck, the lady wove the fairest dreams 
of the future; dreams so romantic, so fantastic, that 
the grisly memories of Montauk Point faded far away 
from her listening husband. "You are now a man of 
national standing, Seaton!" she proudly said. "Our 
long cruise will break off the habitual social visits of 
the merely municipal men we once knew! I have al- 
ways avoided women! They only pry and chatter! 
But, without opening our New York home, we will go 
directly down to Washington! There, if you will 
trust to me, I will make a 'salon!' I will return to New 
York with a new and eligible circle of women on my 
visiting list. You will rise still higher! You have al- 
ready made your mark, and at your side I will labor to 
aid you, as you press on to those greater honors!" 
Bennett kissed the eager wife who so fondly believed 
in him. "I must be all you wish, Julie! For your 
dear sake!" 

And as they sped down into the Caribbean and 
threaded the Windward Isles, he felt the truth, that 
his fatal passion for Madeleine Ware was only the 
blindness of a mere desire, bom of propinquity and 
her false daily position ! "She brought it all down on 
her own head!" he murmured. "From the very mo- 
ment that she entered the office she was in a false 
light. Bashford's protegee was too lovely for a mere 
clerkly life! And she was always open to insinuation 
or attack! She was a fool not to have married him! 
I was a fool to be led on in those lonely days by her 
overmastering influence ! If she had held herself with- 
in the natural lines of womanhood, she would have 
been queening it over this old man's splendid fortune, 
backed with his unrivaled standing! The mere women 
drudges around offices, quickly learn self-protection! 
A superior woman goes either too far — or not far 
enough !" Bennett's springy steps echoed on the deck 
in the long vigils, in which he tried to stifle a sense of 
coming trouble, and to thrust down the spectre of that 



258 CHECKBD THROUGH. 

white-faced woman at the window of the death cham- 
ber! "I will land at Cape May and go directly over 
to Washington," mused Bennett, when, after two 
months, the "Raven" turned her prow homeward. "Julie 
can select her own establishment! And I, will be busied 
in the preliminary acquaintance of national men! This 
will keep Doolan away from me! He will not dare to 
write! He is too cunning. He fears to make a row 
in Washington, and he may fortunately drink himself 
to death! Can I believe him as to the destruction of 
all the girPs baggage? He is far too sharp to put 
his own neck in danger!" The congressman was sud- 
denly seized with a gnawing anxiety to go back and 
verify all the "covering up" of that hideous and cow- 
ardly deed worked upon the innocent and trusting 
girl wife! "There's no proof whatever of the mar- 
riage! I can defy the whole world!" And yet the mur- 
derer's weird longing to go back to the scenes of a past 
horror was on him, and a terrible fear possessed 
him. "Doolan has his spies and underlings all over 
Long Island! I could not explain my absence to 
Julie. If detected later, my visit would be held 
against me as a damning proof! No! I must take 
my chances ! A little more money fed out to Doolan 
will carry him into the gulf of a drunkard's g^ave! If 
I could trust any one to *fix him!' Ah! No! I had 
to trust him! Had I? Fool that I did not hide her 
myself in the sand hills, and then destroy all her be- 
longings!" And then the whole awful tableau came 
back to him again. He knew that it was his own 
craven fear that had made him powerless to look at 
the sweet face lying there pale and cold in death! The 
woman from whose clasping arms he tore himself, 
only to give her over to the deadly "Cyanide process" 
that he had devised by some horrible devil's prompt- 
ing! It all seemed so base, so cowardly, now, the 
slaughter of that innocent! 

The bridegroom was thinned and nervous as they 
glided at last into the refuge of the Delaware break- 
water. "I wish that I had never brought that cursed 



CHECKED THROUGH. 259 

suit for the trunk — ^and now, it is too late! I must 
play the whole game outP' 

The congressman-elect hastened by train from Cape 
May to Washington in February snows, while the 
very happiest woman of the new coterie of fair ones 
to arrive was busied with her hegira to the capital. It 
was with a delighted pride that Mrs. Bennett noted 
the announcements that the "Honorable Seaton Ben- 
nett had taken winter quarters at the Arlington, where 
his beautiful and accomplished wife would enter- 
tain lavishly," etc. This "movement in high life" 
caused a flutter of instant excitement in the bosom of 
"Red Mike," who had deftly learned by haunting the 
Tiger's lair on Fourteenth Street of the return of the 
"Raven," which was now lying at her winter quarters. 

On the very evening when Mrs. Bennett departed 
for Washington with her social reserve batteries and 
"siege outfit," the lynx-eyed Doolan himself watched 
the closing of the New York home. "So, my lad! 
You give me the slip ! And you think that Fll be fool 
enough to venture down to Washington! Fll show 
ye a trick worth two of that!" 

"Red Mike" proceeded to a "field day" of active 
conference with his smug-faced partner in blackmail, 
Mr. James Devlin. For hours, the two men were in 
earnest converse over a printed handbill, which had 
been liberally distributed in every Long Island ham- 
let. The little den of the "funeral director" behind 
his gruesome array of caskets and mortuary furnish- 
ings was doubly locked, and impervious to the stran- 
ger spy. *It will never do now to write him any 
threatening letters, Mike!" was Devlin's cautious ad- 
vice. "An' he must never clap his eyes on my face, 
either, for our safety lies in that! So, I can't go down 
there and bluff him! You would never get back with- 
out an accident if you hunted him up in Washington! 
He's a slick dog and capable of anything!" "So he 
is! Coward and cruel!" growled Mike, caressing the 
black bottle which stood between them. 

"I have a plan to work him into a comer about the 



260 CHECKED THROUGH. 

papers, and so, he'll have to bleed freely later," said 
the undertaker, "and we can rope in the railroad com- 
pany, too!" "What's yer plan, Jimmy?'' said "Red 
Mike," brightening. "Anything to get the 'stufP out 
of him! Ye see he wont come up here till the session 
is over, June ist — ^and — ^maybe then slide off to Eu- 
rope with his lady fine!" "Just so!" grinned Devlin, 
"but we'll force him to come out of his shell! Now, 
listen to this circular!" He slowly read the adver- 
tisement: 



"Long Island Railroad. 
"Office of the General Manager, 

"Long Island City, N. Y. 

"Nov. 1st, 1892. 

"Special Reward. 

"One thousand dollars will be paid for the return 
of a large trunk, marked S. B., New York City, U. S. 
A. Supposed to have been stolen from the baggage 
room of the Long Island Railroad — ^at Long Island 
City — viz. : 

"Inward baggage. 

"Checked from Sag Harbor July 18, 1892 — arrived 
at Long Island City July 19, 1892 — check 17580. 

"Large yellow trunk. 

"Contains legal papers, with names of Seaton Ben- 
nett and Bashford, Blake and Bodley. Clothing and 
linen marked S. B. Dressing case, jewelry and trav- 
eling effects marked S. B. 

"The above reward will be paid for the recovery of 
the legal papers only, or for any information that may 
lead to the return of the trunk and its contents intact, 
or to the apprehension of the thief. 

"E. R Reynolds, 
"General Manager." 

"Now, what's the matter with dropping an anony- 
mous letter to the manager, that the papers will be 
given up for ten thousand dollars? Ye know the com- 



CHEX3KED THROUGH. 261 

pany has no defense!" said the cunning Devlin. "Ye 
can fix the go-between. 'No questions asked!' They'll 
do it, and we will get the ten thousand dollars clean! 
If we were traced, ye can say we found them hidden 
away. The company will gladly do it, and then the 
other trash is not worth five hundred dollars! They 
will settle with Bennett for a few thousand more. He's 
afraid to press them, ye say! And he'll have to come 
up and face the music! Then ye can press him for 
another dividend. He's got plenty! And give him 
a good frightening!" "Jimmy! Ye're a jewel! An 
owl for wisdom!" cried the delighted Mike. "This'U 
scare him down here, and thin he can never get away! 
His ould partners are his attorneys! They are square 
min, and he tuk them only for a cover! They will of 
course advise him and insist on a settlement!" 

There was a general hum of astonishment among 
the higher officials of the company when the lawyer 
of the road examined the dirty scrawl which two days 
later conveyed the proposition of the two thieves in 
hiding to the general manager. Messrs. Red Mike 
and Devlin were secure in that vilest of shadows, 
anonymous correspondence, while the startled rail- 
road attorney posted off to confer with the representa- 
tives of the absent congressman. Messrs. Blake and 
Bodley were not slow to advise the immediate ac- 
ceptance of such a proposition in the mysterious aflfair. 
"I cannot see but that it opens the door to a friendly 
compromise!" was the final decision of the senior at- 
torneys. "Certainly!" added Blake. "If your people 
properly consider the question of damages!" "Oh! 
we will not stand on trifles!" remarked the friendly 
visitor. "I have no doubt that the trunk was rifled 
of the clothing and personal trinkets. They would at 
all events be useless to Mr. Bennett now. They are 
spoiled now, at any rate. We will act as soon as you 
confer with him and obtain his reply!" 

The arrival of this intelligence at the city of Wash- 
ington brought a sigh of relief to the bosom of the 
budding congressman. The long haunting fears van- 



262 CHECKED THROUGH. 

ished as if by magic! In the midst of his political 
preparations, surrounded by the efflorescence of his 
wife's dawning "social prominence/' the Honorable 
Seaton Bennett jumped at the idea of a settlement 
which closed a door upon the dangerous past. The 
tender of the railroad attorney came at an opportune 
time, for the statesman meditated a flying visit to New 
York. The Speaker of the new Congress, already 
named in caucus, had privately notified Bennett of an 
important position on a leading house committee. 
The first annual meeting of the Eckfeldt Reduction 
Company was called at New York, over which the 
Honorable Seaton Bennett would preside. Professor 
Eckfeldt's paid up stock was to be delivered to him 
in return for a "perpetual license to use the patent 
exclusively, in the United States of America." 

Fame awaited the man now whom Fortune and 
Success had crowned with Love as a gentle torch- 
bearer! The blue-eyed Teuton's genius had gained 
an instant recognition in the scientific world, and the 
fame of his discovery had been his advance herald, as 
he prepared, a rich man, to seek out the waiting 
"bride to be," with the Marguerite braids! 

"I will only be three days away, Julie!" said the 
happy husband. "And when I have closed up these 
detail matters I am yours until the session is over! 
Then we will take a run away to Europe." 

"I always shall feel that it was the 'Cyanide process' 
which brought us together, Seaton!" whispered the 
happy woman. "But for that, I should not have been 
here now, at your side! It has brought us easy 
wealth and shown us the way to happiness!" 

Bennett's face was ashen pale as he drained a hasty 
glass and hurried to the station. "My God! She 
must never know the fearful price that I have paid for 
my empty honors! The Cyanide process!" He now 
trembled with eagerness to close up the compromise, 
for, cold egoist as he was, the unflinching ambition of 
the woman who loved him, blindly, touched his heart. 
As he drove past the huge Capitol to the station, he 



CHECKED THROUGH. 263 

saw the figure aloft with Freedom's shield in one hand 
and the sword of justice in the other! He shuddered 
as a spasm of fear seized him 1 "Oh ! God ! For one 
hour of innocence! I am a thief and a murderer! I 
have stolen Julie's love — ^and — slain one whom I 
should have spared!" The devil in his heart laughed 
merrily! For, he whispered: "He is mine forever! 
The 'Cyanide process' made him mine!" 



CHAPTER Xni. 

THE MANHATTAN STORAGE COMPANY'S AUCTION. 

The returning New York representative tasted all 
the sweets of a sudden notoriety as he dashed onward 
on his return to the great metropolis which had hon- 
ored him. Scores of hats were lifted in salutation, 
eager correspondents caught him "on the fly," and 
various office-seekers chased him to the great fortress 
on Nassau Street. Bennett entered the law office 
with a secret determination to now buy peace at any 
price and the wild wish to build a wall higher than 
China's Tartar barrier between the dead past and all 
his blushing political honors of the day! He was quak- 
ing, though, at his heart, for when bluff Hugh Atwater 
suddenly strode into the parlor car at Philadelphia 
he had thrown himself down into a seat by Bennett's 
side. 

"Have you never heard a word of Madeleine Ware's 
fate? Never even a whisper?" said the anxious- 
browed Pennsylvanian autocrat. The young con- 
gressman moumfuUly shook his head, and then 
gasped: "And — ^you? I've not seen Bashford for 
some time!" "There's a man somewhere on earth," 
growled Hugh, "whom the fiends of hell will tear yet 
in flaming torments! I am half distracted. My poor 



264 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Flossie! I will tell you, Mr. Bennett," said Hugh, 
"Mrs. Renwick is a sadly changed woman since Made- 
leine's disappearance. Jimmy Renwick is simply at 
his wit's ends, and their only child may be soon moth- 
erless! For Florence has been always possessed of 
the wild hallucination that Madeleine has been made 
the sport of some wicked man's damned treachery! I 
loved that noble, pure-browed woman dearly. If I 
should ever meet the man who wronged her, it would 
be short work for one of us! Fd save the hangman 
his rope — ^by God, I would ! For my beloved sister is 
slowly slipping away from us. We dare not harbor 
for a moment the idea that Madeleine has consented 
to a life of hidden shame and ease! Ah! Poor friend- 
less girl! To what end? We only yearned to coop 
her up in our hearts and homes! There's room for 
fifty such, and we would never miss it! But there's 
only one Madeleine Ware on earth! And Bashford, 
too! What would he not have done for her? Tell 
me, on your honor as a man, did you ever see any 
symptom of what is called the 'double life' in any of 
her actions? Recall every incident!" Bennett was 
trembling now like a leaf in the storm ! "She was a 
pure woman, before God, I believe it! I feel it! I 
know it!" murmured the conscience-stricken wretch. 
"This haunting thing begins to drag me down, just 
as it has paralyzed Hiram Bashford's golden mental 
prime," said Hugh. "And now, the shadow hangs 
heavily over my darling sister! Do you know that 
I will turn this Atlantic coast upside down and sift it 
to find that girl yet — dead or alive! Look at Bash- 
ford ! He has settled Ware Hall upon her, with a re- 
version to my sister, and has also put in trust a princely 
sum for Madeleine, with Renwick and myself as trus- 
tees ! He only did this to prevent any breath of scan- 
dal, and to lure the poor girl out of that arena of wild 
beasts where she struggled alone in the open to vin- 
dicate woman's right to a place in your honored pro- 
fession! And — the Shearer money, too — awaits her! 
There is all this, which would have made her safe for- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 265 

ever from the world's rude shocks! Ah! God! Poor 
girl, loving and trusting — she went on her way alone! 
The fatal fetich of independence!" 

The craven scoundrel's face twitched with the 
storms of passion sweeping over him. Fear, regret, 
remorse, and now the knowledge that his scoundrelly 
deed was unnecessary palsied his tongue, and then 
the train dashed into the great station at the ferry. It 
saved a possible self-betrayal! 

"I know how you suffer! I can see it!'' kindly said 
honest Hugh Atwater, "and you must really forgive my 
vehemence! My poor sister! If you could only see 
her you would join me in hunting this unknown 
wretch to bay — ^this fiend who has wronged Made- 
leine! For the inspector now confirms our very worst 
fears! She has surely fallen a victim to some hideous 
libertine's cowardly desires! If not dead, she may be 
worse than dead! It was not a money scheme!" 

The truth dawned at last upon Bennett, that he 
could have found fortune, high friendship, and easily 
reached every noble aspiration through the dead 
woman's tender affection. "Loving and trusting, she 
went on her way alone !" Hugh Atwater's last words 
rang out in Bennett's ears like a death sentence, and 
he hasted away to the work of covering up every tell- 
tale track upon his snaky path in wickedness. He 
was in a quiver of trembling cowardice now! 

"I'm here only for three days, Blake," nervously 
said Bennett. "Telephone to the railroad attorney 
that if he will pay me five thousand dollars and all your 
costs, I will dismiss the action and then turn in the 
railroad check to the company. I can go over to- 
morrow and verify the papers, if they can really show 
them up!" "By all means the best thing!" cheerfully 
said Blake. "You would not care to press them to 
the wall, and this will end the whole thing. I'll tele- 
phone at once." Seaton Bennett's face was careworn 
and haggard as he then anxiously said: "I will finish 
an important corporation meeting by two o'clock, and 
look in here again then. So, go ahead, and close it all 



266 CHECKED THROUGH. 

up if you can." "I will have your answer ready then/' 
repHed Blake. "Go in and see Bashford! He's been 
continually asking for youf 

The Congressman entered the very room where the 
Greek-browed girl had so often waited for his com- 
ing, with her heart beating in love's hidden ecstasy! 
The great lawyer sat there at his table, his massive 
brows whitened with a fallen flake of snow. "Heav- 
ens! How he has failed!" mused the startled culprit 
For the whole attitude of the man spoke of a "letting 
go" on life — of the beginning of the end! Bashford 
rose and greeted the '^successful man" gravely. "You 
will probably be tied to your new duties till June, and 
I wished to see you before I go out on my wander- 
ings. You have heard nothing?" 

"Not a word! Not a sign! Not a whisper!" was 
Bennett's answer, in a gasping breath. He felt the 
very air choking him, and he longed to dash wildly 
away! Out, anywhere, only far from the hollow eyes 
of the broken man, glaring beseechingly at him! And 
yet, again, a horrible fear possessed him, as if the walls 
would open and the pale wraith of the loved and lost 
would point a shadowy accusing finger at her mur- 
derer! He feared to see again that white-robed figure 
with arms outstretched for help, the beautiful woman, 
"loving and trusting, who went on her way alone!" 
Bashford's head drooped as he absently muttered: 
"Then, I must go out on my way blindly! But I charge 
you, by your honor, by the mother who bore you, give 
Bodley any tidings you may have! I must find Made- 
leine! And may God avenge her on those who 
worked her wrong!" 

Seaton Bennett stole out of the office, and paused 
even in his flight to say adieu to Blake. "He is breaks 
ing fast!" gravely said Blake. "If he does not find 
that missing girl it may be a case for Bloomingdale— 
or worse! We are watching him privately. I begin 
to feel now, Bennett," said the energetic Blake, "that 
there's one man wandering on this earth who is not 
ripe yet, even for hell's retribution! He must live to 



CHECKED THROUGH. 267 

suffer! That^s the real hell! Nbt the preacher's bug- 
a-boo ! But the hell of a haunted life ! There skulks 
somewhere on earth the unpunished wretch whose 
daily rack is the torment of a murderer's conscience!" 
Without a word, Seaton Bennett passed swiftly out 
and fled away, as soon as he dared to make haste, 
among the human ants swarming below. "I know 
that man who bears a living hell in his bosom!" the 
wretch faltered to himself. "Fool! Fool! And a 
needless — and a useless crime! For she would have 
led me on in love and innocence upward, in honor and 
peace, to a golden future! And now!" He groaned 
as he was forced to sit over his fellows and gloat upon 
the glowing reports which told how the "Cyanide proc- 
ess" had succeeded beyond the wildest hopes of even 
the sanguine inventor! There was the flush of brandy 
courage upon Bennett's face when he returned and 
listened calmly to Blake's gleeful recital of his suc- 
cess. "Your terms are accepted ! The papers will be 
all ready for you at two o'clock to-morrow! Will you 
go over there and verify them?" "Yes!" briefly an- 
swered Bennett. "I leave all the details to you. I 
will telephone back to you myself, to-morrow, and you 
can then dismiss the suit as agreed, on payment of 
the compromise and costs." The congressman rose. 
"I may not see you again,'' he murmured. "You can 
notify me at the Arlington of the final settlement. I 
return soon, for the session's work is upon us now!" 
"Do not forget that you belong to us later?" was Blake's 
merry adieu. "We have a strong hold upon you! 
And we do not propose to lose it!" That night the 
guest of honor at a hastily convened dinner of politi- 
cal magnates, the Honorable Seaton Bennett sat 
down with a chorus of ringing cheers making the 
walls of the club room ring again. "There's a man 
who has leaped into fame, honors, wealth and social 
sway !" said one, as the star of the gathering went out 
into the night. "An honor to the great metropolis, 
and a man who will go far!" 
There was none who would have envied the favorite 



268 CHECKED THROUGH. 

of fortune had the midnight vigil of the frightened 
wretch been followed up! 

"I was a fool to have used Red MikeP' he babbled. 
"I should never have quarreled with him! But, 111 
pacify the brute! For Atwater and Bashford are 
now both grim hounds upon the track!" 

The morning sun brought the courage of mingling 
again with the busy crowd whose vestments fence in 
a thousand secrets, a hundred crimes, an unending 
daily record of conscience-guarded frailties, in every 
square of New York's crowded streets. By a self- 
protective cunning, the shaken wretch avoided his 
usual haunts and passed over to meet the waiting at- 
torneys of the Long Island Railroad company. Ben- 
nett was gravely courteous as he examined the 
recovered papers with an aflFected carelessness. 
They seemed to be all in due order, and he 
breathed more freely as he noted the evident 
care with which they had been preserved. "I am 
perfectly satisfied!" he said, after a half hour's 
examination, and he gazed inquiringly upon the at- 
torney. "I suppose that I must not ask how you ob- 
tained these?" was his smiling query. The lawyer 
shook his head. "We gave our honor to ask no ques- 
tions, and that rule must be your own g^ide! I pre- 
sume that some corrupt employee threw this trunk off 
the train, suspecting from its appearance that it was 
valuable. Of course, we will never see either it or 
your own personal articles, again. The trunk was 
probably painted over and sold to some dealer for a 
few shillings. Your summer wardrobe, Mr. Con- 
gressman, has been divided piecemeal among the sec- 
ond-hand shops or pawnbrokers!" "It was a very 
strange occurrence!" mused Bennett. "Did you get 
the check strap and check back?" "Ah! No!" quick- 
ly said the lawyer. "You see, if that should turn up, it 
would probably land the holder in jail. But, bless 
you, it is probably now in the fire or at the bottom of 
the East River. We will keep your own returned check 
as our evidence when we close with your lawyer. You 



CHECKED THROUGH. 269 

will never hear of the trunk or its contents again!" was 
the veteran lawyer's prediction. "I don't care to — 
now!" drily remarked Bennett, as he wandered away 
to the headquarters of Mr. Michael Doolan. He was 
saved! A close race, too! 

The good-humored welcome of "Red Mike" bore 
out his jovial assertion that his visitor was "as wel- 
come as the flowers of May." And the heart of Pat- 
rick Casey, chief Ganymede, was proportionately light 
as he saw the "high contracting parties" in such 
brotherly amity. "It's always that way with the Irish 
— either a hurricane or a lovely golden smoothness — ^ 
too smooth to stop long!" thought Casey. "I won- 
der why they rowed each other? Maybe 'twas only 
the drink!" For that "great first cause" explains nine 
out of ten of all the throat clutchings of the modem 
world! The golden calm endured all the afternoon, 
while, in an inner room of the Palace of Bacchus, the 
congressman carefully packed and sealed his papers. 
"Ye see, ye were wrong to doubt me," heartily said 
Doolan. "'Twas some of their dirty little sneak 
thieves that tipped the trunk out of the car. How did 
ye settle?" And Bennett, glad of even the peace of 
the groggery, his last safe retreat, frankly told his fel- 
low-scoundrel of the settlement. "See here, Mike!" 
cordially said Bennett, "I'll give you a check now for 
half what they gave me! I want you to watch over 
all my interests! I'll watch yours, too, down there 
at Washington! Your friends shall all be pushed 
ahead. And," he whispered, "if you ever get hold of 
the trunk and the rest of the stuff, see that it goes at 
once into the fire! But, not till I've seen it! I'll give 
you the other half if you show me that trunk, so that 
I can destroy it! It's the last thing left to worry me!" 

"Why?" buoyantly said Doolan, as he pocketed the 
check. "There's a thousand like it!" "Yes!" said 
Bennett, thoughtfully. "But my initials were on it — 
a thing I'll never have on my baggage again! And," 
he faltered, "the strap and the duplicate brass check 
may be tagging along with that !" 



270 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"Ah! Never ye fear!'' bravely remarked Doolan. 
"The min who saved them papers to sell them to the 
company were smart enough to destroy that check 
and strap, and to deface the trunk!" 

"Or, Mike, perhaps to keep it!" Bennett's hand 
shook as he poured out a drink. "What for?" roared 
Mike Doolan. "They bled the company good, PU be 
bail, for yer papers! Now, if they tried to worry ye 
later about that check, they would be soon nailed by 
the 'cops!' There's nothing in that! Ye're all safe!" 

And so Seaton Bennett was relieved at last. "I'll 
post ye, never fear! For all the boys over here are 
square with me!" "Well! Don't stir the thing up! 
Let it be!" said Bennett, when he had dispatched his 
papers to the express. "What's become of the two 
properties up at Fireplace?'' said Bennett, with his lips 
trembling. "Ah! There's a lot of these here men- 
haden fishermen who have rented them till the children 
come of age. And there'll never be a whisper from 
there ! They will wear out the two ould ranches and 
— ^there's no danger!" "They'll find nothing?" said 
Bennett, pale faced. "Go yer way in peace! There's 
nothing to find! I tell ye! Trust to me!" When 
Bennett rose to go he said, as he gave Doolan a pri- 
vate address in Washington. "You can always reach 
me there, by letter or telegraph. I'll stand by you, 
Mike! Let me know what I can do for you. There 
are a thousand good things coming in sight. I'll keep 
you always in mind ! If I run up, I'll come over and 
see you ! Don't forget to call on me, and, remember, 
what I want to get and destroy — ^is that brass check, 
No. 17580, and the strap." 

"Oh! I'll call on ye, never fear!" laughed Mike. 
"As for the check, I'll keep my eye open, and for the . 
trunk, too! You are dead sure safe now; the papers 
was the only thing to fear! All the rest you can bluff 
them on!" And then, the murderer and his black- 
mailer parted in a lying truce. 

Before the relieved congressman had reached his 
club, after visiting his splendid home, Mr. Doolan and 



CHECKED THROUGH. 271 

his friend Devlin had divided the ten thousand dollars 
for the papers, as well as Mr. Bennett's last largesse. 
The two scoundrels were jovial, and yet they pon- 
dered long over the question of the missing check 
strap with its tell-tale check! "No! No! Mike!" 
was the sly old undertaker's verdict. "Never try to 
go to the storehouse and get that check oflF the trunk! 
We can't tell what might happen to that chest of 
books! Let it lay now! For if ye sent a man, he 
might be followed, and we would surely get nabbed! 
This fellow Bennett is a money-maker, and we can 
milk him easy! What more do we want? Let him 
rest a little and then work him again!" "You are 
right, Jimmy!" said Doolan, with a sigh. "But I was 
a fool not to have kept the check and strap! It's good 
for twenty-five hundred, and more, at any time! But 
we'll just now give him a bit of a breathing spell!" 

The conviction that the last door left unlocked to 
the grim spectres of the past had been sealed forever 
brought a truce to the startled criminal who hastened 
away to the waiting honors of the capital. The very 
fact of the scattering of his dangerous personal prop- 
erty, the dismissal of the suit, and the prompt settle- 
ment seemed to remove every trace of connection be- 
tween the trunk stolen from Long Island City and 
that lonely house by the lagoon! Seaton Bennett 
was easily deceived by "Red Mike's" apparent friend- 
liness! The resentful face of Hugh Atwater and the 
careworn countenance of Bashford faded from the 
politician's mind. The coward joyed now in his past 
acuteness, and he gloated over the sneaking ability 
which he had shown. "I can defy them all now! No 
one ever saw me a moment with her after the arrival 
at Sag Harbor but 'Red Mike,' and — he is not likely 
to make his folly act as his own future executioner!" 
So, as he moved gaily on among the strange scenes of 
a new political career, as his mind was fed daily with 
the incense of adulation, he forgot at last the haunting 
eyes of the woman whose death had opened the door 
to all the greatness now thrust upon him. For he 



272 CHECKED THROUGH. 

had easily dropped, in his fool's paradise of rest and 
ease, into that condition which saith, "Soul! Soul! 
Thou hast now much goods!" There, in the g^eat na- 
tional Hall of Representatives, before the crowded 
galleries, he lifted up his ringing voice, and men knew 
and honored the brilliant lawyer. Glancing up to the 
gallery, there were kindly eyes there shining down 
upon him in love — ^the eyes of the earnest woman 
whose happy heart forgot the shaded past. And, 
gifted, talented, able and far-seeing, the husband went 
smoothly on his upward way. Julie Bennett, a swan 
upon the lake of Fashion, was not the least of the 
"social queens" who illustrate the pages of the great 
panoramic national volume of "the Gilded Age." The 
spring passed rapidly in these distractions and the 
summer roses came blushing forth again. There was 
no shadow on the brow of the Honorable Seaton 
Bennett as he victoriously returned to the stately 
home upon Murray Hill. There was a conscious 
pride of a newly-found power in the glance with which 
Seaton Bennett now faced all men. The "grateful 
constituency" did not neglect the usual courtesies of 
a serenade, a procession, and many congratulatory ad- 
dresses, punctuated with red fires lighting up the soft 
summer night. It was a time of laureled victory. 

On his way uptown, after a brief visit to his old 
partners, Bennett revolved at ease all the easily-gotten 
favors of fortune as he recalled all the rocks and shal- 
lows he had passed. "Bashford roaming over Europe, 
Mrs. Renwick 'ordered away for her health,^ Blake 
and Bodley but too anxious to welcome me back into 
the firm! I am safe at last, for the whole storm has 
blown over." It was no longer a timid craven who 
pressed the cushions of the carriage, for Seaton Ben- 
nett gleefully decided, with an increasing admiration 
of himself, "I have fooled them all." On the eve of 
their departure for Europe, for Mrs. Seaton Bennett, 
too, had spread her plumage for a foreign flight, the 
wily congressman visited L^ng Island City. 

"There's a great change coming over Doolan," con- 



it 



CHECKED THROUGH. 273 

fidentially remarked Casey, who was now evidentiy 
"the man at the wheel." "He's growing strangely for- 
getful and neglecting himself. It's the power of whisky 
he's drank, and the old woman and myself, are now 
running the whole shebang." 

Seaton Bennett could not conceal a welcome glow 
of triumph. "What do you mean?" he hastily asked. 
Is he losing his mind?" 

Ah, he's pretty well done for now," carelessly said 
Casey. "He carries what I call a regular 'still drunk,' 
and he'll go to pieces like a flash some day. He is 
done up. He's getting a sort of childish like, ye know 
— what them doctors call 'paresis,' ye know." 

Bennett's eyes blazed in a fierce secret joy. 

It needed but a single glance when the failing pub- 
lican greeted his quondam patron to confirm the 
report of the sly barkeeper. The great hulking giant 
only feebly dragged himself around and his trembling 
hand was uncertain in its grasp upon the never-absent 
tumbler of "blue ruin." The glassy, wandering eye 
and lolling head told a story which made the devil in 
Bennett's heart madly dance for joy. It was clear 
that "the beginning of the end" was very near. Ben- 
nett instantly decided upon his plan. "A short respite 
now may drag him over a season, but this tiger's teeth 
are drawn. No one would credit him now!" And 
then, the thought flashed over the congressman's 
mind that Red Mike's death would finally sever the 
last link of the chain which had bound him to the hor- 
rible past. Madeleine Ware's fate would soon be a 
mystery of the past. "I think I can aflFord to indulge 
my old friend to fool him to the very top of his bent," 
was Bennett's happy thought. And so he frankly drew 
the accomplice of his dastardly crime aside. "I am 
going away, Mike, over the water for a few months," 
said the overjoyed visitor. "What can I do for you?" 

Doolan gazed in his patron's face. He crooned 
out, "Ye've been good and square to me and ye've 
kept yer word like a man. Ye sent me the money I 
wanted this winter. I'd just like a bit of help now. 



274 CHBJCKBD THROUGH. 

They keep me very short, Casey and the ould woman, 
ye see. I'll see ye later when ye come back. Bu^ 
there's something Fd tell ye for yer own good. I 
must think. I wanted to write to ye, but I dared not. 
Thank ye,'' the human wreck mumbled as Bennett 
gave him a package of notes. "What is there in here?" 

"It's all right," said the congressman. "Needn't 
count it. Five thousand. Did you ever hear any- 
thing — an)rthing of the trunk?" 

Red Mike's head was shaken in a decided negative. 
"Not a thing. Not a thing, and I must think now 
to tell ye something, but I don't remember it now. I 
must wait." 

When Seaton Bennett finally gave up his attempt to 
call the burned-out hard drinker's mind back he 
passed quietly out of the great saloon. "How long 
has this been going on?" he asked of Casey. 

"He's commenced to lose himself since the turn of 
the spring,'* carelessly answered Casey. "He's fit for 
nothing now. The wife and I run the whole busi- 
ness." 

"Ah," significantly rejoined Bennett, who passed 
out and sought the ferry. "To be husband and pro- 
prietor, vice Doolan, deceased, Mr. Patsey Casey," 
mused Bennett. "I see how it is going. It is Ae 
devil's own good luck. I wonder if anyone really 
knows of that little old matter." Bennett had long 
decided that "Red Mike" was the only actual witness 
of the passing of Madeleine Ware. "He probably lied 
to frighten me. There is no one to connect me with 
the deed left now," he jubilantly reflected, "for this 
man is now on the very verge of insanity, and I can 
trust to whisky to finish the one-sided struggle. Bot- 
tle against man, I back the bottle every time." And 
he went away, chuckling in joy. "I wonder what that 
fool wished to tell me?" he mused as he sought his 
home. And when the husband and wife sailed for the 
summer vacation, where delights awaited them far 
beyond the rolling Atlantic, the last vestige of the old 
craven fear had departed forever from Bennett's mind. 



CHECKED THROUGH. ' 275 

"I can defy them all. There is nothing at all to fear." 
And so he was light at heart, when his beautiful wife, 
clinging to him on the swaying deck of the steamer, 
cried in the happiness of a merry heart: "Next year let 
us take the dear old *Raven' and make a long summer 
cruise to the Azores and the Mediterranean." 

Flushed with success, happy and high in men's 
honor, Seaton Bennett lightly answered, "Where you 
will, whenever we can, darling, for you have made me 
what I am, and the whole world is ours to choose 
from. There is nothing to shadow our lives now." 
For he had deeply buried the dead past forever under 
those lonely sandy dunes of Montauk Point, and the 
man whom he had once feared, his brutal blackmailer, 
was only a jibber ing semblance of a human being — a 
mere wreck on error's shore. In the full blaze of the 
summer of life, they went away over the main far from 
the memory-haunted halls of the old stone mansion by 
the silent salt lagoon where Madeleine Ware, loving 
and trusting, had gone out alone, on the dark and 
silent waves of Death. 

The Honorable Seaton Bennett and his lovely and 
accomplished wife were wandering in the Tyrol upon 
a lovely September day of the year A. D. 1893, while 
the two wearied clerks threaded the mazes of the gen- 
eral storage rooms of the Manhattan Storage and 
Warehouse Company. The busy bookkeepers were 
at work handing out the list of delinquents who were 
about to be summoned by advertisement to settle the 
arrears of storage or, after due advertisement, suffer 
the loss of their goods, at public vendue, for "arrears 
of storage and expenses." Vault after vault was suc- 
cessively illuminated and a band of sturdy workmen 
toiled in the separation of the effects already forfeited 
for past dues. "What is the date of our auction, Jami- 
son?" said the inspector, pausing before a serried mass 
of bulky packages in the gloomy recesses of the larg- 
est "general room." 

"We always advertise on September 10 and then 
sell on October 2," replied the check clerk. "Shdl I 



276 CHECKED THROUGH. 

get out the articles whose year expires between the 
advertised day of notice and the day of sale? What 
shall I do in such cases?'' 

The inspector paused in thought. "We must make 
no costly mistake. I think that the law is a year and 
a day. Somebody might come back on us." 

"Now, here is a case in point," said Jamison, seat- 
ing himself on a large canvased trunk, marked "A. A., 
Brooklyn." "Now, I have made a separate list of 
all these goods whose time runs out between Septem- 
ber lo and October 2, the day of our annual auction. 
For instance, this one." He stooped and examined a 
tag. "Books, Sept. 30, 1893. P'd to date." "Let me 
see," and he quickly ran his eye down his check list 
"Ah, yes. P. O. Box 1758, Brooklyn. Now, if we 
sell this package on October 2 — the year and day has 
run out on October i — ^to be sure, but we do not dare 
to advertise it now in our forfeited list. They may 
come up at the last moment and pay or take away. 
We might be mulcted in heavy damages in such a 



case." 



The inspector pondered long and then replied: 
"Send out a special notification to all of this class, 
these expiring consignments between September 10 
and the day of sale. Half of them will surely pay up." 

"And the rest?" the clerk waited for his superior's 
orders. 

"I would not risk selling them till our next year's 
auction." 

It was without effect that several bills and notifica- 
tions were later addressed to "P. O. Box 1758, Brook- 
lyn,'' under the initials "A. A." When the great an- 
nual clearing sale was over the vast warehouse had 
sent forth some hundreds of packages to be the prey of 
the lively speculators thronging the auction rooms. 
And after the annual clearance the box of books of the 
ubiquitous "A. A." was there, awaiting the slow revo- 
lution of the season, but marked "D. H., 1894." 

"It is simply incomprehensible,^' mused the in- 
spector, as he checked up the annual auction returns, 



CHECKED THROUGH. 277 

"how people of name and note seem to abandon their 
household gods to fate, after the care of years and all 
these expenses maintained for so many months. The 
American life of unrest, accident, changing fortunes, 
and shifting 'personal relations.'" 

"Nothing so strange, Mr. Inspector," said the chief 
bookkeeper. "We have twenty-two safes out of our 
one thousand that have not been visited for two or 
more years. The city banks are loaded down with un- 
claimed money. The hotels and private storehouses 
are crammed also with abandoned valuables. These 
people are some in the New, some in the Old World, 
and some in that shadowy land known as 'another 
and a better world.' Some in jail, some gallivanting 
over the earth with other people's wives and hus- 
bands. Some judiciously avoid society by reason of 
'circumstances not within their control,' i. e., the locks 
and bars of Sing Sing. Some are energetically try- 
ing to see the bottom of the bottle, all else forgetting, 
some insane, some have perished in moving scapes by 
flood and field, and I doubt not, some of our de- 
positors may have been brained by the Sioux Indians 
or served up as 'fricandeau a Pindigene' by the can- 
nibals of the perfumed isles where people neglect Bell 
and Redfern and go in for 'the altogether.' '* 

"Yes, it is a queer Walpurgis dance," mused the in- 
spector, "this kaleidoscopic life of New York City — 
the pace that kills. I have been 'stood up' in the 
shades of Madison Square for a quarter by a man I 
hailed at college as America's rising Webster. I have 
seen a girl in the morgue with whom I have danced, 
the fairest of the rosebuds, at an inaugural ball. When 
the record of the dying year is made up many a 
despairing soul around us shudders to look back and 
note the gradual slope which led downward to a life 
worse than hell. There are no uncertainties in hell, I 
suppose, and these poor wretches 'wait beneath the 
furnace blast,' now fearing only annihilation, in a dull, 
hopeless misery. The Manhattan storage warehouse 
locks up many a sad secret, for its records tell too 



278 CHECKED THROUGH. 

plainly of the 'sliding down' process, which seems to 
occur in a ten-fold ratio to the sliding up/' 

There was a physical reason why the gentleman re- 
sponsible for the false address, "A. A., Brooklyn, P. 
O. Box 1758," failed to promptly respond to all the J 
urgent demands for the payment of his arrears. "Mr. j 
A. A.," in the person of Michael Doolan, Esq. (late of 
Long Island City), had paid all the arrears of a wasted 
life and an outraged bodily constitution. "Red Mike" \ 
had suddenly "passed over" in the interval between 
one desperate attempt to "break the record" on local | 
drinking and the second fearless dash at John Barley- ■ 
com. 

The lengthened cortege of hastily gathered up 
hackney carriages attested his "local prominence." 
The waving banners, weird insignia, and braying bands 
of various local societies, greatly impressed the "small 
boys" who burned to emulate the record of the great 
Doolan. His long-suflFering wife, with a modest pride, ~ 
surveyed the great concourse which accompanied 
"Red Mike" to the only rest he had ever known, and 
calmly returned to continue the business of poisoning 
the community, wholesale and retail, relying upon 
that young tower of strength, Patsey Casey. It is true 
that the new silk hat, acquired for a proper display at 
Red Mike's obsequies, "furnished forth" the energetic 
Casey as a resplendent headgear, when, a few months 
later, he "dried the widow's tears" by a marriage, which 
enabled them jointly to carry on the business at the old 
stand. 

And so the mantle of Elisha descended upon this 
Elijah, who acquired much gear and inherited the 
vigorous relict, as well as the personal and political 
wisdom of the late principal "heeler" of Long Island 
City. The "hatchments of woe" disappeared soon 
from the door. 

But the one who sorrowed longest for the man who 
had drank too constantly of his own "firewater" was 
James Devlin, the popular funeral director of the city 
on the East River. The lengthened items of a gigantic 



CHECKED THROUGH. 279 

bill, comforting in the snug sum total, brought no 
smile to his grave face_of sacerdotal mein. 

Devlin claimed as of right the selection of the 
mortuary monument of his partner in the vigorous 
blackmail campaign and he was the author of the in- 
scription which, to this very day, sets forth in deeply cut 
letters the virtues of "Red Mike" Doolan — ^those virtues 
so strangely discovered after his death. For even 
Doolan, thug, rounder and publican, had his friends, 
"whose fond hearts refused to discover the faults that 
so many could find.'' At his wake — ^an event of a his- 
toric prodigality in the line of "creature comforts" — 
it was generally admitted that he was a good provider 
and a tireless worker in the cause of Tammany. Dev- 
lin, who, however, "aye loot the tear fa' doun," was 
smitten by the suddenness of Doolan's taking off. Red 
Mike had given to the timid old scoundrel but half of 
the secret needed to hold the Honorable Seaton Ben- 
nett in a state of fear and apprehension. For the under- 
taker was not aware of the exact location of the hiding 
place of that last legacy of the unpunished crime of the 
congressman. 

"It was a fool thing he did not confide in me and 
give me all the papers, and the marks, and the direc- 
tions. Sure, it's just the loss of a gold mine to me," 
wailed Mr. Devlin uselessly. 

So, in the first months wherein the "whole commu- 
nity" mourned that "energetic and prominent business 
man, Mr. Michael Doolan," there was none who sor- 
rowed as deeply as the man who had lost forever the 
key to the closed cave wherein Seaton Bennett's gold 
lay. There was no "open sesame" token in Devlin's 
darkened mind. 

These tidings, which brought a new life to Seaton 
Bennett and stilled his last flickering fears, were com- 
municated to that traveling statesman by Doolan's 
successor in business, as well as the "connubial con- 
tract." Patrick Casey had already assumed that 
American brevet of distinction, "Esq.," which marks 
the man of "property and influence." He now longed 



280 CHECKED THROUGH. 

for local political leadership and even ventured to call 
himself to the attention of the Honorable Seaton Ben- 
nett in that capacity. His letter was a very well spring 
of joy to the man whose callous conscience was now, 
day by day, indurating into a dull defiance of his past. 

"By God! This is a windfall!" the excited tourist 
cried as he read over the comfort-bringing letter of the 
barkeeper bridegroom. "Red Mike died suddenly! 
That last five thousand was the price of my freedom, 
for Casey, his successor, in bed and board, knows 
nothing. I am free, free forever! As for the other 
fellow, the brute* threatened me with, he could not 
have seen the deed. Red Mike, himself, did not. If 
I were bullied by him, should he ever turn up, I could 
denounce him for the murder. No one ever saw me 
with the girl. The * Raven's' dark wing covered her. 
And night helped us, too, with her cloak. The boy- 
even the boy who drove the baggage wagon — ^never 
saw Madeleine's face. The old Indian crone is prob- 
ably dead and no one would notice her drunken rav- 
ings. And the trunk! Ah! That was my master 
stroke ! That compromise ! For if it should ever turn 
up, I can easily prove by the railroad company that 
the thieves had it in their possession for months." 

Mrs. Julie Bennett laughed in glee to see her jocund 
husband's hilarity. "You are in a very good humor 
over your news, Seaton," she fondly said. 

"Ah, darling, what do I not owe to you?" he said. 
"The Cyanide process is even a greater success than 
I ever dreamed." And the fool forgot in his heart 
those stern, strong words, "Be sure, your sins will 
find you out." 



CHECKED THROUGH. 281 



CHAPTER XIV. 

A MILLIONAIRESS DETECTIVE. 

The golden days of September, 1894, were chilling 
into a crisp autumn as an anxious man paced the lone- 
ly garden walks of Ware Hall. Those who had seen 
Hiram Bashford, alert and radiant, in his mental pow- 
ers a splendid figure at the bar, carrying all before 
him, would never have recognized this dejected wan- 
derer in the paths, now drifted deep with autumn 
leaves. 

A letter, tightly clutched in his hand, fluttered in 
the gusty breeze as he started and turned away from 
Philip Ware's marble tomb gleaming under the old 
elms. For the sight of the tomb now maddened him. 

Bashford's name was withdrawn forever from the 
firm wherein Blake and Bodley now battled with their 
old legal foes, and the eyes of the two overworked law- 
yers now often turned toward the sea to await the 
home-coming of that brilliant young Congressman, 
the Honorable Seaton Bennett. 

"We must either bring Bennett back to us," said 
Bodley, "or else, get a man at once to replace him. 
For Bashford's breakdown has been a sore loss to 
us. But we cannot go on forever thus, mourning for 
his missing friend, Madeleine Ware. That was the 
strangest disappearance that I have ever known," 
mused the senior. 

Blake looked up dreamily as he answered, "I won- 
der if Hiram is right? Could that fellow Shearer or 
his gang have revenged themselves on the innocent 
girl for the stern pursuit of the whole set of swindlers 
down there? It seems incredible, and yet, Bashford is 
moping out his days there now, hounding down every- 
one whom he thinks capable of working her any 
wrong. It seems entirely too much to believe that she 
hurled herself out into a life of secret shame. There 



282 CHECKED THROUGH. 

has never been a sign or a token of her — not a trace." 

'T\\ tell you, Blake/' answered Bodley, "the chief of j 
detectives always fancied that Bashford himself was ' 
the cause of this gifted woman dropping her identity 
forever. He surely could not have been mad enough 
to think that he could make such a woman happy /^ 

"Ah, my friend, men never grow old in their own 
eyes," replied Blake. "If he did wish to marry her, it 
was a great mistake on her part. She would have had 
all that a woman desires." 

"As to money, position, display — ^why, yes — cer- 
tainly," continued Bodley. "But does the woman her- 
self, count for nothing?" 

"Very little in these days," said Blake. "The social 
whirl is a mad one nowadays and the race for 'place' 
of the vigorous American rosebud girls is wilder than 
even the hurdle jumping at the Horse Show. Fve often 
thought myself that Bashford had something to regret 
in this matter — some hidden burden on his soul. He 
was very foolish ever to turn an inexperienced girl 
into the hurly-burly of New York professional life. 
She was only a sacrifice to a false ambition, a mad, 
premature assault upon the present fitness of things. 
The day of the woman lawyer is not yet come. But 
you and I must stop up our gap in the firm here at 
once. I fear that Bennett has become so intoxicated 
with the public life which he really adorns, that he will 
not come into harness again. There's- an example of 
what a rich wife does. Seaton Bennett could have 
aspired to a leadership at our bar. He would never 
have been an eminent judge. But as a counselor, an 
attorney, cool, crafty, able, sly, untiring, reckless of his 
means to an end, he was a candidate for the very first 
honors in the practical conduct of cases. Now, his 
wife's ample fortune smothers any natural ambition 
he has, other than to shine as a public debater and a 
merely representative young New Yorker. I have 
always wondered how he ever captured her. She has 
been the cause of half his Washington successes. A 
wonderful woman, sir, a wonderful woman! And, she 



CHECKED THROUGH. 283 

brought him such a fortune. What did Bennett say 
in his last letter from Fayal about their coming back?'' 

"There is the man himself in every line/' said Bod- 
ley, handing out a letter. "If the renomination is 
pressed on him, he cannot refuse. If not, he will come 
back to us. But, it has been 'pressed on him/" 
Bodley sneered. "I'm told his wife put up thirty thou- 
sand dollars for the Tiger on the first election. This 
'Cyanide gold process' is enriching them, too. What 
is money to them? The inventor has a castle on the 
Rhine now, built with a portion of his share, and the 
Bennetts dominate that powerful company, as well as 
the 'Golden Eagle' mine, which the widow always con- 
trolled. She is a money spinner, that bright woman." 

Blake was eagerly reading the young statesman's 
letter. "He will give us a positive answer on his ar- 
rival, about October i. 'If the "Raven" has good luck 
in her home run, I will be with you then.' As he is 
nominated again, we may as well give him up. Shall 
I speak to Jerolemon? He will jump at the chance 
to join us." 

"I think that I would wait for Bennett's arrival," 
said the cautious Bodley. "Let him decline with all 
due ceremony. He has a great deal of law business, 
and, we may as well have that." 

"Right you are," said Blake. "I'll tell Harry Jerole- 
mon that we will give him an answer by October 15 or 
20. He is the next best man I know of to Bennett. 
How Bennett has got on! A millionaire, a leading 
Congressman, with a splendid house, and a lovely, 
dashing wife. He has all he could crave, save chil- 
dren, and he has a brilliant renown to bequeath. I'm 
sorry to lose him. There is a happy man, if ever a 
man was happy." 

Bodlev was walking up and down with his hands 
clasped behind him. *^Do you know, Blake/' the cau- 
tious counselor said, "I have often thought that this 
rich widow had something to do with Madeleine Ware's 
disappearance, herself? Bennett and the girl were 
down there in Delaware trying that case, you know. 



\ 



284 CHECKED JUROUGH. 

They must have been left together a great deal. Now, ^ 
I'm told that this widow Martyn had a little cloud on 1 
her own past. Bennett was pushed right out with a sud- ! 
den bounce by Tammany so as to dazzle an admiring 
world. I wonder now if the widow broke off an ep- * 
gagement with the Ware girl and paid her heavily to 
clear out. It is the very strangest thing that Ben- 
nett's marriage and his election came on together. 
And he was out there, too, working the widow's mine 
all summer. Hugh Atwater tells me that his sister 
still insists that Bennett had some secret influence over 
Madeleine. He certainly took her disappearance very 
coolly." 

"Yes, and he would take anyone's disappearance 
very coolly, as long as he was not affected in purse 
or person. Bennett is as hard as grindstone grit You 
don't know him," promptly said Blake. "Not a man 
of his college chums has ever even traced his family 
antecedents. He is simply a successful Ishmaelite." 

"True," mused Bodley, "and yet, I have always won- 
dered why the girl never turned up to claim her own 
money or to accept Bashford's rich provisions for her 
future. If there is a secret, you will find out some day 
that she died with it And, neither Bashford nor Ben- 
nett will ever betray her. Strange that to all the ad- 
vertisements, not a single word of reply, not even a 
rumor, has ever reached the chief." 

"I am afraid that she lies now in an unknown grave. 
She was a magnificent woman," sighed Blake. "I'll 
answer for Bashford with my life, and I really can't see 
where Bennett comes in, in this hidden drama. He is 
as cold-hearted as a stone. She never awakened a 
thrill in his steely heart. I believe there was a hidden 
quarrel between the girl and our old chief and, she 
dropped out of sight to revenge herself on him. Re- 
member, the inspector stoutly maintains that she en- 
gineered her own disappearance with a consummate 
skill." 

Hiram Bashford, in the lonely halls of the old Ware 
mansion, read and reread Seaton Bennett's cautious 



CHECKED THROUGH. 285 

answer to his own last presentment of the new theory, 
the Shearer hypothesis. 

"I can hardly see the value of such a bloody re- 
venge," wrote Bennett, "but, you must remember, that 
Shearer was greatly humiliated at the auction sale of 
the Hall,' his public reputation for probity was shat- 
tered, his married life embittered, and his friends 
finally forced to disgorge all the stealings of the Kaolin 
swindle. There is the groundwork for a deep hatred, 
and yet, these times of piping peace do not show up a 
modem Caesar Borgia very often. Shearer had good 
cause to hate you. Yours was the hand that struck 
him. . If she had been your daughter, your sister or 
your promised wife, he might have plotted to deal you 
a return blow, but where, how, would it have profited 
him? I have always felt that the lady had some pri- 
vate reasons for a sudden departure. Now, even Rob- 
ert Shearer could not have foreseen that. So I feel 
powerless to help you now, but on my return I will 
aid you to unravel this mystery if I can. Women have 
many strange eddies in their life currents !" 

"I must ask him to be more plain. Is he sparing 
me anything?" mused Bashford, as he gazed at a 
splendid face shining down on him. It was the painter's 
magic art which called Madeleine Ware back again to 
the lonely watcher. "Oh, God! If those silent lips 
could only speak!" groaned Bashford. "But, I must 
wait — wait. If Bennett knows aught, it is my right to 
know it now." And it seemed to the broken hearted 
man as if the Greek-browed girl would fain murmur 
to him the dark secret hidden yet behind the veil of 
the dark past. Ah! Those sweet lips were sealed for- 
ever! 

"He will be back here very soon. He must aid me. 
For there is an answer somewhere. God will hear my 
prayers." And so, Bashford, too, waited to see the 
"Raven" glide back home again with "the distinguished 
statesman and his brilliant wife." The voyage had been 
the realized life dream of Julie Bennett's perfect happi- 
ness and so, homeward they came, to newer triumphs 



286 CHECKED THROUGH. 

and a higher pitch of proud achievement. For the 
world was at their feet, and life and love were passing 
sweet. 

While Hiram Bashford counted the dragging days at 
Ware Hall, until the "Raven" should bring back the man 
on whom Fortune smiled, he was busied with a labor 
of sacred love. It had been the one dream of the lonely 
lawyer to rehabilitate the grandeur of Ware HalL 
Since the day when he had mistaken Madeleine's 
proud refusal for a repulsion, caused by their disparity 
of age, he had lived in but one dream. To see the beau- 
tiful Portia wandering in these witching garden walks 
a happy wife, a woman sheltered from the fierce storms 
of the! world, nevermore to beat upon her defenseless 
head even though another man should be her bosom's 
lord, the great-souled counselor rising above ^Gtelf, had 
fondly pictured the summer of that splendid woman- 
hood. Ah! No! Fame is not enough for woman! 
Love she craves, she will have, even at the cost of 
her bosom's peace. For, without it, her life is incom- 
plete. And the late vengeance of thwarted love, of 
youth's warm desires, sweeps over the hearts of the 
women, grandly, great, at last, to prove that Love 
alone is lord of all. He stood, with his withered laurels 
on silvered brows, alone in the work and, in self-re- 
nunciation, had dreamed of the double happiness of 
seeing Madeleine happy with another. He had restored 
the Hall to await the return of its absent young mis- 
tress, now a mere shadow of the past, a graceful hov- 
ering specter lingering at the threshold and yet never 
passing over. "You can trust all your memorials of 
Madeleine with me," he had fondly written to Flor- 
ence Renwick, "for, if she never comes, the home 
which waits for her shall be yours, for you and your 
children! Someone who has loved, her, shall rule over 
these garden walks. Someone who reveres the mem- 
ory of the dear one who went, loving and trusting, on 
her way alone, shall keep the vandal foot of the 
stranger away. Let the inviolate shades of the old 



CHECKED THROUGH. 287 

mansion be the speaking memorial of the loved and 
lost;^ 

There came back to Bashford a thousand times the 
implication of Seaton Bennett's letter, "I have always 
felt that the lady had some private reasons for her 
sudden departure.'' "I will see him at once! I will 
insist on his giving me an explicit reason for those 
meaning words," growled the morose old man. For 
their ring seemed to be false. It was a base desecra- 
tion in thought of a pure shrine, always draped in the 
majesty of a spotless womanhood. For months, the 
Renwicks and Hugh Atwater were acquainted with 
Bashford's solemn injunctions. The slightest clue was 
to be followed up and mutual telegrams were to call 
the forsaken friends together to act in concert. Ever 
full of new theories, Hiram Bashford's letters to Flor- 
ence Renwick revived again her suspicions, born of 
those womanly intuitions which had translated the 
unspoken message of Seaton Bennett's eyes. So, while 
more than one pair of eyes watched the sea for the 
"Raven" to come up from the under world, while the 
journals and political clubs anxiously awaited the ar- 
rival of the brilliant orator to lend his voice to the 
clamor of an exciting campaign, while Patsey Casey 
forged out into the open as a budding "boss'' in Long 
Island City, there was no relaxation in the veiled search 
for the clue to Madeleine Ware's mysterious fate. 

"This is altogether too much," growled the great In- 
spector of New York police, seated in his guarded re- 
tirement in the plain red headquarters building on 
Mulberry Street. He rang his bell and handed two let- 
ters to the chief detective. "I want you to send out 
again a secret general alarm about this old Madeleine 
Ware case. Here is Bashford again worrying me to 
death about the lost girl. He is a power still in New 
York. Again, the Atwaters and Renwicks. They are 
influential Pennsylvania politicians and millionaires. 
All that outfit will accuse us of 'laxity and supineness,' 
as the journals put it. Note especially every case of 
unexplained woman crime within five hundred miles. 



288 CHECKED THROUGH. 

Call on me ! I'll take the thing in hand again myseKI 
If that girl ran off through a mere pique, it's about 
time that she was traced. She only had the revenues 
of five thousand dollars on which she had lived a year. 
She has never turned up in Europe. You see, this 
Mrs. Renwick still hangs on the idea that Bennett 
had a hidden influence over the girl. She has only a 
woman's simple reason, 'Because.' And yet, she says 
still that Bennett's face betrayed him on her first sud- 
den visit. There may be something in it. We know 
stranger stories than that. Old Bashford is square 
as a die. Bodley, too, is above reproach. You traced 
out all young Blake's secret life. An easy story to 
find. But you never once got behind Seaton Bennett's 
outer shell. A young fellow of his grade w^ith no 'pri- I 
vate life.' I always distrust a man who has not the 
passions and failings of his time of life!" 

The chief glared at the glass cases around him, filled 
with the gloomy mementos of a thousand desperate 
criminals. He suddenly fixed his eyes sternly on the 
silent captain. "It was a *silk stocking' scoundrel who 
led away or trapped this girl. I believe that she is 
dead. She had nothing for anyone to steal. I'll tell 
you what, shadow me this sly party Bennett, when he 
comes back." 

The captain stood, wide-eyed and wondering. "Why, 
he was busy all that summer with his rich widow's 
mine, that great patent launching, his lightning 
change into a Congressman, and getting out of his 
law business." 

The inspector was standing mute and obstinate as 
he trimmed and lit a cigar. "I want every relic of dead, 
unknown womanhood that turns up carefully kept. 
Telegraph to all these people on the slightest possible 
clue. Keep Seaton Bennett shadowed! He may have 
some undercurrent in his life. Do you see the whole 
pagoda of his fortune, his mushroom rise to million- 
aireship, to a political value, depended on that one rich 
woman's favor at that time? It was taken *at the 
flood'* — ^that sudden fortune. This Renwick girl was 



CHECKED THROUGH. 289 

a schoolmate of the missing girl. She once knew the 
very beating of Madeleine Ware's heart. She insists 
that Bennett had, in some way, crossed the line of in- 
difference in his relations with the missing girl. Let us 
suppose for a moment that there was really an entan- 
glement. Bennett was bent upon marrying a woman 
who could not be easily deceived. You know who she 
was.'^ The captain bowed in silence. "Then, if Ben- 
nett had to get this girl out of the way, it was vital to 
keep her out of the way — ^to hide her forever." The 
inspector's glassy eyes were now fixed on the smoke 
wreaths of his cigar. "It is just what a cool, secretive 
devil like Seaton Bennett would do, if he had to do it. 
Hide her, until the last trump, if he could!" 

The captain shook his head. "You are building the 
roof with no house under it. Why, even Mrs. Minnie 
Walton, who had city apartments at the same house, 
tells me that Bennett was only a few times at the girPs 
rooms, and only after he had been given the firm 
business in his sole charge. They are old friends." 

"See here, captain!'' cried the inspector, springing 
up and pacing the floor. "Miss Ware disappeared 
from Mrs. Walton's house at Mamaroneck. The Wal- 
ton woman took a swell European tour. She is game 
and *fly,' as journalists are. Suppose that she was 
really needy, as journalists often are! That Bennett 
got her to lure the inexperienced girl away! And that 
he wished to avoid an imprudent marriage engage- 
ment! Now, the writer suddenly went away — ^the 
girl goes to Mrs. Walton's lonely house at Mamaro- 
neck — and then her disappearance, Bennett's boom- 
ing fortunes and his marriage, follow on quickly. You 
must shadow Mrs. Walton as well as Bennett. If they 
are found to collogue together, just let them go on. 
Watch over her place at Mamaroneck. You must keep a 
strong searchlight on West Chester, Long Island and 
the whole Sound. Bennett is expected here every 
day. I wish a strict secrecy still kept up. I am going 
to work on this idea. If I get 'probable cause' I will 
have them — ^both — ^taken down to Center Street, I wi&K 



290 CHBSCKED THROUOH. 

to leave Bennett always free handed, but watch him. 
Detail Jamieson to watch the house at Mamaroneck 
and see if the Honorable Seaton Bennett ever leaves 
his lovely wife to wander out there. If he does, it 
means 'business/ for neither Bennett nor Mrs. Walton 
wear their hearts upon their sleeves. If an arrest 
ie made of anyone in this case, let them be put *on 
the small book' and held at the Tombs, till I see them 
myself." 

The detective captain was startled. "You seem to 
have worked out the case from the first." 

"I have worked out what Bennett might do if he 
wanted her out of the way. Mrs. Walton's calling is a 
shield and safeguard. She is a roving, free lance of 
journalism. She knows everyone, can be seen any- 
where, and can receive anyone. If it turns out to be 
anything at all, you'll find that she has been made 
Bennett's catspaw. I did once think Bashford knew 
something," said the inspector. "But, I shadowed him 
in vain.'* 

"You never told me," cried the astonished captain. 

"I know several other things that I have not told 
you," smiled the great police chief. "My first fear was 
that Bashford was really responsible for her absence; 
that she would in due time reappear from Europe, mar- 
ried to some traveling American, or perhaps stay there 
in the ranks of the nobility." His sneer was not lost 
on the detective. "Why not so, as it is?" 

The inspector rose and put on his coat. "Because 
Bashford carries a broken heart. This thing has made 
him a mere wreck. He has dropped a practice of a 
hundred thousand dollars a year to go and mourn 
over the girl in the home that he wanted to give to her. 
Men do not do that for a lost mistress! Hugh Renwick 
tells me that his will stood solid in her favor, and the 
legal firm is shattered by his withdrawal. Do you now 
watch for every trace of any foul play to young 
womanhood. I fear only one clue will some day be 
found — in her grave. Don't forget that we must tele- 
gmph the Renwicks atvd B^isWotd Instantly if any- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 291 

thing should turn up." The sturdy inspector then 
walked away, with a brief nod, leaving a man behind 
him who was in a maze of suddenly worked fancies. 
"The 'old man' is deep. He has been digging away 
at this on his own account. Now, by the gods of 
Greece, he has the start, but FU cross the line ahead. 
If she is to be found, I will find her— dead or alive." 
He sat for an hour smoking, thinking over all the hid- 
den chapters of New York's crimes in high life. "Why 
not?" he muttered. "It was no vulgar hand which 
has wrapped this mystery around her fate. There 
were no property interests at stake. She must have 
trusted and loved someone.*' The captain started as he 
suddenly remembered. "They were alone together 
at the office in vacation time. Ah! If those downtown 
office walls could only speak!" And he went away, 
stirred up to a vague suspicion of a crime, conceived 
in cowardice and carried out in cruelty. "There may 
have been a motive, and also the need for sudden ac- 
tion. The man who put her away had a devil's reason, 
and so, betrayed a woman's trusting love." 

There was a motley crowd gathered in the sales- 
rooms of Richard Waters' Sons, Nos. loo, 102 and 
104 West Twenty-third Street, on the morning of Tues- 
day, October 22, 1894. For two days, a dozen van 
loads of assorted family gear had been crowded into 
the auction room of the famous New York selling 
agents. There had been a grand battue of the "old 
horse" relics at the Manhattan Warehouse. The check 
clerks and the alert inspector threaded once more the 
gorged caverns of the great depot and the brawny por- 
ters rolled out the forfeited goods on the way to the 
lottery of a "dead horse" sale. Numbers of packages of 
easily recognizable goods were secretly marked by the 
various bargain hunters, who swarmed like human 
ants in the great auction rooms. 

"There's no mistake about *A. A., Brooklyn' this 
year/' said the tally clerk, as the canvas covered chest 
of books was dragged away to the elevator. 

1 



292 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"No. It was forfeit last year," said the inspector. 
"Let it go down.'' 

"That fellow was more particular to keep his books 
than to pay his bill," laughed the tally clerk. "He has 
simply loaded that trunk with camphor and carbolic 
tablets." 

"Shall we find out what's in it?" demanded the head 
porter, with a wink. 

"Don't bother," growled the inspector. "Just as 
likely a lot of old account books, or some of the lumber 
of a big business. Don't disturb it. It's well packed, 
and, we are lucky to get a year's storage out of it." 

And so, on the morning of the sale, a score of curious 
women and hawk-eyed men, nosing over the gathered 
spoils of the year, speculated upon the out-turn of the 
heavy chest. Long before the auctioneer's hammer 
rose and fell the advertisements had been conned over 
by the gathering crowd. "No chance of trouble about 
these purchases?" said an anxious woman to the wait- 
ing auctioneer, as she scanned the long catalogue of 
marked items with a tantalizing generality of descrip- 
tion. 

"Oh, no, madame," snapped out the auctioneer. 
"You only take chances on the contents; as to title, we 
are bonded auctioneers, and the company have ful- 
filled the law. There's the regular weekly advertise- 
ments for four weeks, and, we guarantee that the law 
has been strictly fulfilled." 

The woman pushed her way through the crowd, por- 
ing over the announcement, dated "Offices of the Man- 
hattan Storage and Warehouse Company, Lexington 
Ave., cor. 426 St. — Seventh Ave., cor. S2d St., New 
York, Sept. 10, 1894." 

There were seventy-eight different owners and' par- 
ties in interest named, some of whom even scintillated 
on the outskirts of the famous Four Hundred, for even 
the "high rollers" and swans of fashion can now and 
then drift on the reefs of a financial shortage. The 
legal notification to pay was duly followed by these 
ominous words, "And, in case of your default in so 



CHECKED THROUGH. 293 

doing, the said goods will be sold at public auction on 
Tuesday, the 22d of October, 1894, by Richard Wat- 
ers' Sons, at their salesrooms, in the city of New 
York, as authorized by the statute in such cases, made 
and provided." The signature of Lawrence Wells, pres- 
ident of the Manhattan Storage and Warehouse Com- 
pany, was the final attestation of this "dark horse" sale, 
without reserve. 

For three long hours the clamour and clatter of a 
human Babel rose and fell in vicarious gusts of bat- 
tling over the alleged bargains. Hook-nosed Israelites, 
greasy of coat collar, and yet bediamonded, dragged 
away their prey, with eager eyes, paying in dirty bills 
from fat wallets, and then scattering off to their dens, 
on First and Second avenues. Triumphant women 
bore off strange trophies, while here and there, dis- 
gusted discoverers bewailed the few dollars ventured 
upon packages of attractive appearance. Few were 
aware that an ingenious "probing" had taken place be- 
fore the sale and that "straight tips'' led many a smart 
bidder to the certainty of a handsome profit. The 
fever of bidding had somewhat abated and the rooms 
were thinning out when the auctioneer, with wearied 
eyes, glared around for a second bid on the chest of 
books marked "A. A., Brooklyn." With one smart rap, 
he sounded a loud call for another bid. "Three dollars. 
Do I hear four? And, gone to Mr. ." 

"Cash," was the curt reply of a grave-faced Fourth 
Avenue dealer in second-hand books, who lurked in a 
debatable nook just above the head of the Bowery, 
a second-hand den, where the moon-eyed book worm 
sought bargains, and the needy student, sly servant 
and broken-down scholar furtively sold or pawned 
their treasures. The shades of night made the little 
room in rear of the book mart strangely gloomy as the 
man who was proprietor, clerk and slavey, at once 
availed himself of the off hour to examine the nature 
of his bonanza. 

"Carkins, the bookman," dropped knife and ham- 
mer, and sought the "comer shades" several times for 



294 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"spiritual reinforcement*' before he conquered the 
double folds of heavy tarpaulin canvas, and unknotted 
gordian intricacies of heavy spun yarn. It was a fa- 
mous packing. By his one candle, he at last surveyed 
the revealed inner casing of the package, which proved 
to be a large trunk marked S. B., New York, U. S. A. 
**There must have been some object in going to all 
this trouble. I liave made a big strike,'' growled the 
bookman, as he shut his two swinging leaves of the 
front door and proceeded now to essay the opening 
of the trunk. "It's a pity to break the lock. It's a 
beauty," and the bookman sized up his treasure trove 
with pride. "The trunk alone is worth ten or fifteen 
dollars." It was while rolling it over, with straining 
effort to save the shilling's worth of cord lashing the 
trunk that the fatigued Carkins saw hanging to an end 
handle a railroad strap and brass check. "Now, that's 
devilish funny!" said the startled dealer, as he held the 
candle to the face of the brass plate dangling at the 
end of the leather strap. "Long Island Railroad Com- 
pany, Sag Harbor to Long Island City,'' he read off 
letter by letter, "and the number, 17,580. They always 
take those things off baggage. I wonder if it is all 
regular," and then, a sudden suspicion seized upon 
him, for the odor of drugs and chemicals was over- 
powering him now. With a white face, he sought for 
the nearest locksmith. "Pshaw ! The Manhattan Com- 
pany are dead square." Mr. Carkins paused at the 
saloon to take a refresher. "It's a beauty lock," he said 
to the workman, who stood beside him with a great 
hoop ring of a hundred keys. "If you smash the lock 
I won't pay you!" The locksmith grinned as he lit 
his cigar. ; , 

"Trust to nfa, I'll open it so I won't tear a sheet 
of tissue papen and then, they entered the little book 
den in a state of good humored jollity. Five minutes 
after the locksmith had been tentatively feeling the 
intricacies of the splendid trunk lock he growled, "Get 
me some more candles. It's as dark as the gjave here. 
The lock swings loose, and yet, the trunk does not 



CHECKED THROUGH. 295 

open." "Carkins, the bookman/' looked on with a 
dawning suspicion as the smith examined the refrac- 
tory package. "That's a very strange thing, Carkins. 
There's an extra broad iron rim put on here over all the 
joints of this trunk, and with cKnch nails, too. I'll 
have to get a good thin cold chisel. You don't wish 
the trunk spoiled. I'll be back in a jiffy." 

"Stay, ril go with you," said the nervous tradesman. 

Before they departed, Carkins showed to the smith 
the trunk's strange adornment of a strap and brass 
railroad check. "I am afraid there is some *funny busi- 
ness' in this. It may have been stolen. It may be 
some jeweler's sample trunk that has been hidden 
away till the thing blows over." And Carkins then 
began to faintly doubt the good fortune which had 
fallen upon him. On their return, the two men at- 
tacked the refractory steel band vigorously. The smith 
held the light and adjusted the cold chisel as Carkins 
tried his manly pith with nervous blows of a heavy 
shop hammer. 

"There you are. She's loose all round now!" cried 
the perspiring locksmith. "Give me the hammer han- 
dle." With a vigorous pry the rusted lid flew loose, 
and the workman made one wild spring for the door 
as his eyes rested upon the revealed contents. "No, 
you don't. For God's sake, stay with me!" screeched 
Carkins, as the two men struggled at the locked front 
door. They had overturned the candles in their sud- 
den rush, and only one flickering gleam litjip- thc litt le 
back den. The frightened smith falteredT^We must 
go for the police," as they retraced their steps, for the 
overturned candle, still flaming, had set fire to some 
loose paper litter. "My God! It's a dead woman!'' 
they murmured, while the blood ctitfflfed at their heart 
cores. "Some one has killed her, anc^JIdden her away!" 
said the smith, regaining his shaken nerve. "We must 
not touch a thing. Let us go together!" babbled the 
dazed bookseller. 

"Yes. I'll take this. This baggage check. It may 
be a clue." 



296 CHECKED THROUGH. 

"And copy the trunk mark, too!" the practical me- 
chanic said, as he scrawled down a hasty description of 
the package. 

In five minutes, a cab rattied down the Bowery at 
breakneck speed. The two men eagerly pressed into 
the waiting room of the plain red brick on Mulberry 
Street, where the inspector had just defended his pet 
theory about Madeleine Ware's disappearance to the 
dejected captain of detectives. 

"Pll tell you, chief, she may have given us all the 
slip,'' the stubborn detective said. "If she was in our 
bailiwick, my men would have found her by this 
time." 

"You'll find you're wrong. I feel that the woman 
has been made away with. Some day *^ 

"What's up?" cried the chief, springing quickly up, 
as the sergeant in waiting dashed in, whispering a few 
words. "Come here!" cried the chief to the detective, 
and in the little consultation room, they soon faced 
the excited visitors from Fourth Avenue. A few quick 
sharp queries, and then the chief snatched the brass 
check from the hand of the trembling Carkins. "You 
say this check was on the trunk, and the strap, too?" 

"Yes," murmured the man, "and, there's a dead 
woman in there, sure enough." 

The chief was poring over a printed handbill. He 
raised his head, and banged upon his hand-bell. "Ser- 
geant," he gravely said, "take these gentlemen up 
stairs. Treat them well. Don't leave them an instant! 
Come with me, captain!" sharply commanded the in- 
spector. "Get a carriage at once. Let the other man 
wait. He will be well paid." Drawing Carkins aside, 
the inspector remarked, "That brass check is worth a 
thousand dollars to you, my friend. Read that, and 
keep your mouth shut. You and your friend also! Talk 
to no one but me. I'll be back in an hour." 

"Here's the description of the trunk and the letter- 
ing on it," volunteered the locksmith. "I copied it 
just now." 

"You won't be forgotten," nodded the inspector, as 



CHECKED THROUGH. 297 

he seized the slip of paper. Darting into his office, he 
sHpped the portrait of the lost kdy of Ware Hall in 
his breast pocket, and a packet of letters. He glanced 
at the scrawled characters of the smith. "By God! I 
was right !" he cried, as he snapped the desk lid. "Have 
you the keys of the store, captain?" demanded the 
chief. 

"Yes, and the sergeant is in the carriage." 
"Come along then," and the three officers sped 
away up Center, through Grand, and along the Bow- 
ery, now crowded with human thugs, gaudy women 
jackals, and all the idle crowd upon whom these terrors 
of the night, work their guilty schemes. On past the 
cheap theaters, low drink hells, mock auction haunts 
and fence pawnbrokers, the carriage dashed until the 
nearest corner to Carkins' was reached. Then, one by 
one, the officers swiftly approached the little book den. 
The nimble sergeant had opened the door as the su- 
periors reached hinj. There was no spoken word as the 
three men entered the back room and closed the door 
into the little shop, whose front doo» was then care- 
fully locked and barred. A half dozen candles and 
the sergeant's lantern illuminated the interior of the 
noisome little cubby hole, as the chief alone pro- 
ceeded to examine the exterior of the trunk. He held 
a printed handbill and read, as the sergeant, with shak- 
ing hand, Hghted his labors. "Yes! By Heaven! And, 
the check!" growled the stern officer. "Now, gentle- 
men." There was deathly silence as the great criminal 
expert turned with a sigh and gasped, "It has been a 
dastardly job. Look, captain! There's no mistake!" 
For, the lost was found at last, and there was no longer 
a mystery in the case of missing Madeleine Ware! The 
poor child's terrible fate demanded instant action — 
the sternest vengeance. But five minutes was spent 
by the two chiefs in an earnest converse. And then, the 
detective captain buttoned up his overcoat, seizing 
his night stick. "Send this telegram first. Then come 
back with the precinct captain, and the carriage." 
It was a gloomy vigil, this silent watch of the two 



298 CHECKED THROUGH. 

grave-faced men until the return of the detective. In 
ten minutes there was an active council of war at Mul- 
berry Street headquarters. 

When, two hours later, Carkins was allowed to re- 
enter his book mart, under the escort of an officer, the 
locksmith was at his side. There was not a single 
vestige of the unwelcome heavy case, with its loosened 
canvas covers. Not even a shred of rope, nor a scat- 
tered nail, not a bit of steel hoop, nor a string was to be 
seen. And, nothing was said as the policeman bade 
them "Good night,'' save his last injunction of abso- 
lute secrecy. Together the two frightened companions 
swiftly left the shop, whence the strange auction pur- 
chase had been deftly spirited forth. 

"I think that Fll let someone else run the shop for a 
week," whispered the bookman, as he wandered away 
to a distant refectory with the companion of his dark 
secret. All that he knew was that a thousand dollars^ 
reward depended upon his silence. 

And as the stars swept silently on their way to the 
West the great chief was weaving his fatal web. For 
he had now sworn a mighty oath of vengeance! "That 
yacht must be met at quarantine, and this man taken 
off. Not a word, not a glimpse of a newspaper to warn 
him. Keep him on the police boat till night, then he 
goes 'in solitary,' at the Tombs, until we are sure of all 
our evidence. The boat must be in at any moment 
now. Don't wait an instant in this matter." And the 
chief murmured, "She is a game little woman after 
all — ^this millionairess detective. She held to the right 
clue. He did this cruel deed.'' For he held in his 
hand a telegram, "Coming to-night," signed "Florence 
Renwick." 

There was a heavy-hearted man at Ware Hall who 
only waited for the morn. For Hiram Bashford had 
read Florence Renwick's words, "Come to New York 
instantly!" He vaguely discerned their dark import, as 
he walked the lonely halls. 

And a thousand miles seaward, the swift "Raven" 
was slashing along on her homeward way, bearing a 



CHECKED THROUGH. 299 

man who slyly smiled, "It has all blown over. I have 
fooled them all." And on shore, with tears in his eyes, 
the stout inspector gazed down now at the dead girl 
who was to meet the gaze of her loving friend. "She 
shall be avenged!" he swore. 






CHAPTER XV. 

ON THE SMALL BOOK AT THE TOMBS. 



In the gray of an October morning Florence Ren- 
wick stood in the room of its hiding place with her 
husband watching her closely, as the great inspector 
slowly lifted the lid of a black draped casket. Neither of 
the men could hold back the eager woman, whose 
wailing cry, wrung from the heart's core, rang through 
the secluded room. "Madeleine! My darling! My 
poor murdered darling!" The notes of the first pas- 
sionate wail were echoed back sharply as the little mil- 
lionairess dropped upon her knees in a storm of grief. 

"See here, chief! I can't understand this!'' whis- 
pered Renwick, drawing the chief into a corner. "It is 
our lost Madeleine, and yet, so natural." 

"There's not a moment to lose now, Mr. Renwick," 
said the chief. "There has been a devilish skill used 
here. The most careful work of the embalmer has 
preserved the poor girl's body as an awful witness. So 
the man whom we wait for now was not alone in his 
crime. He has probably no technical skill. There 
are no marks of violence, and the very fluids used 
would defeat any attempt to search out the particular 
chemical agent of death." 

"And it was?" 

"Poison!'' solemnly said the chief, interrupting 
young Renwick. "I have done nothing officially, as I 
wished to spare your dear wife any needless shock. 



300 CHECKED THROUGH. ' 

We needed an absolute identification. Moreover, the 1 
devilish slyness of this scoundrelly deed demands | 
our taking instant means to first apprehend — ^^ 

"Seaton Bennett, 'the cowardly murderer!" cried 
Florence Renwick, with Hashing eyes, as she bounded 
to the chiefs side. 

The two men stood amazed, for the despondent . 
clouds had vanished from Flossie Renwick's face and \ 
she stood quivering there with a wild eagerness to be 
at the work of vengeance. 

"Wait a moment," gravely implored the inspector. 
"Do you know these?'* He then handed two rings to 
the excited woman. "They were found on her, poor 
dead hands. It is an incomprehensible hardihood. The 
trunk was marked S. B., New York. The maker easily 
identifies it as the one that he sold to Bennett for a 
European trip, and the check and check-strap were still 
on it. Now, these two rings are also marked *S. B. to 
M. W., Oct. 13, 1891.' He gave them to her, I easily 
believe, but he never gave orders to put the initials on. 
It was her own loving work later. A memorial of hid- 
den love. The trunk may have been used by him and 
his accomplices for something else, but some one has 
played him false. His accomplices secretly stole that 
trunk from him. They hid it, and for one purpose 
only." 

"And that was?" said Renwick, breathlessly. 

"Either revenge or blackmail! We can trace all this 
out later. I have decided not to disturb Bennett's home 
or his old rooms till he returns. He keeps his old 
bachelor rooms yet, for political purposes. I shall not 
notify the Railroad Company of the finding of the lost 
check, till I have my man locked up in secret For our 
best hold upon Seaton Bennett is to be his own con- 
fession. The police boat is waiting down at quaran- 
tine now, and it will watch the lower bay, day and 
night" 

"I never saw those rings, but I can lead you now to 
the place of the murder,'' resolutely said Florence Ren- 
wick. "The woman's intention was correct. That scoun- 



CHESCKBD THROUGH. 301 

drel married darting Maddy secretly and then trapped 
her to her death with her wifely love. You can easily 
find the jeweler who sold this valuable ring. I don't 
believe there is another ring in New York City with a 
square sapphire and two square diamonds of such 
beauty. They are old stones." 

"Ah, dear lady!" said the chief. "I can trace this 
bauble before night, but Bennett has a thousand po- 
litical friends. He might escape us. He is billed now 
to speak at the last grand rally before election. And 
the Tiger's cubs would all spring to his aid. He must 
be simply immured alone. First, I want to connect 
him directly with the mystery. Such a mind as this 
Seaton Bennett's never consented to the use of the 
Manhattan Storage Warehouse. It was done by some 
cunning wretch who desired to hold him down. We 
all have our enemies — ^in this world," he sighed. 

"Will you send a good man on a trip with me, before 
you take any other steps? You will not search any 
further at the Storage Warehouse?" Florence Renwick 
was trembling now with eagerness. "I want the man 
you send to have the two rings." 

"I can give you the very best detective captain I 
have," said the puzzled chief. "But what will you do, 
dear lady?*' 

"I will go up to Greenport at once and from there to 
Sag Harbor," resolutely said the little woman, as her 
husband gazed at her in wonder. 

"I don't understand," said the mystified chief. 

"I will confess now!" said Florence Renwick. "I 
put a Philadelphia private detective on months ago to 
trace out all Seaton Bennett's secret life of two years 
ago. He began his secret trip West, when he gained 
his fortune in this Cyanide process, by using Mrs. 
Martyn's yacht to run down to Prince's Bay to the 
laboratory. Then, he strangely went off to the north- 
ward on a fortnight's cruise, and the *Raven' later 
touched at Greenport, she then, made a night run over 
to Sag Harbor. Bennett got off there, and he turned up 
next at Baltimore, St. Louis and Helena, Montana. 



302 CHECKED THROUGH. 

The yacht ran down to Cape May and took Bennett 
to Baltimore, then it came back here and laid up." 

"You are a wonder!" said the chief, whose bronzed 
cheeks were now a shade paler. He had scrawled down 
but two words in his note book. "Cyanide process/' he 
muttered, and then quietly slipped the little book in his 
pocket. "Mr. Bennett leaped to fortune at once, by 
marrying this rich widow, on the strength of that sum- 
mer's wonderful work," he said aloud. "He made this 
Cyanide process a success." 

"Yes," doggedly said Florence, "and, he murdered 
our darling Madeleine to make way for the rich po- 
litical widow. I see now her whole secret. He had 
married Madeleine privately and he only feared Mr. 
Bashford's resentment." 

"So, Bashford w^ould have married the lady?" mused 
the chief. 

"I think so, now," answered Florence. "And it was 
only a strange pride that kept them both silent. Bennett 
feared Bashford, as his place in the firm depended on 
the dear old man. My God! He would have given his 
very all to have made Madeleine Ware a happy wife." 

"Then you must be away from here before he 
comes!*' cried the chief. "How did you find out all 
this about the yacht's movements?" 

"I put a sailor detective on the yacht," answered 
Mrs. Renwick. "He was just getting very confidential 
with the steward of the *Raven' when the boat sailed 
away suddenly for Europe on this cruise. He was left 
behind. He had come down to Williamsport to report 
secretly to me.'' 

"And he found out nothing about any woman being 
on the boat?" The chief was very anxious now. 

"I had put the man on his guard. That inqury was 
to come later," answered the little detective. 

"ril arrest Captain Hank Moulton and this yacht 
steward, too, as witnesses," said the chief, "after I have 
lured Bennett quietly off the 'Raven.' I will keep the 
yacht down at quarantine, till we are all safe. This 
thing must be kept out of the papers. If the locksmith 



CHECKED THROUGH. 303 

and the bookman do not babble, we can lead up to the 
trunk. What will you do at Greenport?" 

Mrs. Renwick bent her head and pondered a mo- 
ment. "It is a little town. The captain, with the rings 
and photograph, can look around among the hotels, 
lodging houses and drivers for anyone who may have 
seen our lost darling. Her beauty would not be soon 
forgotten." 

"It is a very good plan," mused the inspector. "I 
will not deceive Hiram Bashford, but Pll tell him that 
you have gained a promising clue and I'll then keep 
him busied for two or three days. Will you go, also, 
•Mr. Renwick?'* 

"No!" promptly answered the little lady. "I will 
be unrecognizable in a working woman's e very-day 
garb, but Bennett's friends might recognize my hus- 
band, who is well known around Southampton and 
all the sporting grounds there. I find out that Seaton 
Bennett used to spend his days of leisure up there at 
the Long Island Sporting Club's shooting grounds." 

The inspector started, and then suddenly checked 
himself. "I will send the captain off on the same train 
with you. Just go over to Long Island City, and then 
await him at the depot. When can you start?" 

"I will buy my whole outfit at a department store as 
I go uptown, take it up to the hotel, dress there, and go 
over at once to Long Island City, and Mr. Renwick 
can wait at the Waldorf, for any further orders from 
you." 

"That's right. You are a genius," said the chief. 
"The captain will have the aid of the law officers at 
Greenport and Sag Harbor to back him up, and he 
will also use the police telegraph. You must never 
forget to avoid all reference to any crime, and above all, 
to the man whom we are waiting for — ^the man who 
made the Cyanide process a success." 

The last words of Florence Renwick as she left the 
darkened room were a whisper of loving tenderness 
to her husband. "Ask him if you may not send some 
flowers down here." For the millionairess detective 



304 CHECKED THROUGH. 

was now only a sorrowing woman. That night a cross 
of pure white roses rested upon the satin lined casket, 
where poor Madeline Bennett's head now rested upon 
the white pillows. 

There was no whisper in the g^eat, busy Babylon of 
the finding of the loved and lost. No lynx-eyed re- 
porter, no babbling underling had fathomed the se- 
cret of the box marked A. A., Brooklyn, and a whole- 
some fear kept the lips of the smith and the bookman 
sealed as yet. 

Together, by the shores of Greenport Bay, the cap- 
tain walked, under the glittering stars, with the woman, 
in whose gentle soul a fiery thirst for a bitter vengeance 
now burned. 

'*I have been all through the town. I have ques- 
tioned the clerks at the g^eat Shelter Island hotels, 
and so far, I have found out nothing. I fear that we 
may have to wait some days here.'' such was the first 
discouraging report. "And we have not very much 
time to lose down here, for the *Raven' may now come 
in at any moment. Of course, Bennett's detention 
would make a public racket. He is also a sly lawyer. 
He would be soon brought up on 'habeas corpus.' And 
his defense will, of course, be that the trunk was stolen 
from him. It is so adjudged by the experts who 
handled the case. He gave in a sworn list of its con- 
tents." 

"Where are they? I have a plan," said the earnest 
woman. "I must work rapidly. Once that Bennett 
is put on his guard, all may be lost! I do not care to 
stay at the principal hotel here. I would be recog- 
nized, perhaps. You go on with your own work. To- 
morrow, I will be out early and take a carriage. I will 
look over all the respectable lodging places as if in 
search of rooms. If Madeleine came down here to 
meet Bennett, I can use her picture as a reference. 
Then, my husband can come up and join me, until you 
have arrested Bennett. We can run back on the line 
to Manor, and then go over to Sag Harbor. For that 
cross line was Bennett's only chance to meet Made- 



CHECKED THROUGH. 305 

leine. She did meet him, either at Sag Harbor or else 
here." 

"You are right. I can keep my quiet search up at 
the place you have quitted until perhaps publicity will 
call on us to use all the local force of justice at the 
north end of the island. That trunk certainly came 
back from Sag Harbor, and something has happened 
to the thieves who followed murder with theft and pro- 
posed to blackmail Bennett later!" "Let me give you an 
old detective's hint," said the officer. "Wear no gloves 
and put these remarkable rings on. It may attract the 
attention of some one. For, even you can see that the 
men who left that one jewel of great price on the dead 
girl's hand either acted in a frightened haste, or else 
intended that it should be a guiding clue. It is the 
darkest mystery of a 'double cross' that I ever knew." 
Long after Florence Renwick's tired eyelids had closed 
in sleep, the detective captain silently walked the beach 
where the lapping waves sadly murmured on the shore. 
He strolled along and went into the New London boat 
landing, to get a light for a final evening cigar. A 
brawny baggage porter stood there, regarding him 
curiously. 

"Hello, Cap! Are you not lost?" said the blue jer- 
sey-wearing baggage smasher. "Well," answered the 
captain, "this is a wonder. You are the only detective 
I ever knew to go at hard work.'* "Oh, I only came up 
here to get away from whisky and the boys. The girls, 
too, for that matter," laughed the ex-officer. "I have a 
good show here, and my wife's got a little home down 
here. What are you here on — the old thing? Look- 
ing up something?" "Yes, I am," said the captain, 
with a sudden decision. "I am looking up a woman 
who is missing from a little yachting frolic here." 
"Ah, I see. Familv discord. Some other man. I 
used to know nearly all the summer beauties here. 
They swarm around these yachts like fire-flies on sum- 
mer nights." "Take a good look at that," said the cap- 
tain, and he quickly thrust the photograph of Made- 
leine Ware under the baggage-man's eyes. "When 



a06 CHECKED THROUOH. 

did you lose sight of her?" said the porter, smiling, as 
he dropped his cigar. "Two seasons ago— in the sum- 
mer carnival.'' "Well, FU be damned if it is not 
singular," slowly replied the man. "Tell me! Tallish 
woman, splendid figure, and not over twenty-four; 
and had a bran new trunk with her, like a pretty school 
teacher on a frolic?" "What do you know about her?" 
almost shouted the detective. "It's worth big money 
to you." "There was a lubber came in here one day, on 
a yachtjwith a national flag flying on the foremast. They 
then box-hauled around here for an hour or so in the 
bay. Now, that very night, this very same woman was 
dumped down here, trunk and all, and she waited two 
hours in that very dressing room. She was a regular 
beauty, and she went away, trunk and all, in a boat 
sent late that night from the yacht *Raven.' I took 
particular notice, for the girl was worried and excited, 
like. I made sure to see the name on the stem of the 
yacht's boat. There was only a crew of sailors in the 
boat. Now, I took this woman for something *out of 
the regular.' She gave me a two dollar bill for watch- 
ing her trunk and shoving it aboard. There was no 
man with her. But, a fellow was on that yacht, waiting 
for her." "How do you know?" growled the captain. 
"Because he let her wait two hours, till it was dead 
black dark, so no one could see her get aboard." 

"The damned coward!" blurted out the captain. 
"Now, that was a hasty job, too," continued the bag- 
gage-man, "for that yacht slid out of here in the night. 
Old Cap. Coming's wife was hunting around here next 
day with a little black hand sack that the girl'd left at 
their house. She stayed a week there, on the wait. 
But, the *Raven' never came back, and the cap.'s wife 
has got that sack yet. I go up there often. He's an 
old friend — skipper of a menhaden steamer." "Tell 
me where he lives," shouted the detective. "Down on 
the spit. Every one knows the skipper. His cottage 
IS a pretty one, the only decent one there." "Did you 
notice anything about the girl's dress or her belong- 
ing's?'' eagerly queried the detective. "Yaas," drawled 



CHECKED THROUGH. 307 

the baggage-man. "I got her a glass of water. She 
then asked me all about the boats. When she gave 
me back the glass, I noticed that she had a splendid 
ring of great square stones, good for five hundred. 
No school marm, says I." "You were right," sharply 
said the official. "Ill see that you get your tip. Not 
a word till I see these Comings," and the captain wan- 
dered away to the hotel. It was far too late to arouse 
his beautiful assistant. "Strange, strange,'' mused the 
policeman over a good-night toddy and his last cigar. 
"It was a throw-off from first to last. The job was 
done over on Montauk Hook, somewhere. But who 
did it, and who helped him get her out of the way?" 

In the establishment of Bacchus whose splendors had 
vastly increased since the demise of "Red Mike," Mr. 
Patrick Casey, now an alderman of Long Island City, 
that very evening had the honor of entertaining the 
grave-faced inspector of police, who was suddenly in- 
terested in the Long Island Sporting Club. There was 
the incense of several fragrant Havanas floating in the 
room, when the chief casually remarked, "I always 
wanted to get over and see Doolan before he died, 
about that missing trunk case. Bennett always has 
raised a racket about that, and it never turned up." 

"Ye're right," replied the amiable Casey. "But, 
Mike, God rest his soul, was a close mouthed devil. 
Ye see, he stood in g^eat fear of Bennett, and they had 
many dealings. They had a devil of a row about that 
same bloody trunk." "How was that?" languidly said 
the chief, whose eyes were gleaming. "Well, ye know 
Mike was the very deviPs own. He'd been up the 
Island a week that time with Bennett, looking at a 
little place out on Montauk Point There's an old 
stone house up there they were going to buy if the 
steamers to Europe were put on, to land there. It has 
a fine landing. Now, Mike came back alone, and 
Bennett went away out West. Then came all this 
racket about this trunk. I learned after Mike's death 
that the railroad paid ten thousand dollars to get the 
papers back that was in the trunk. And, by the 



308 CHECKED THROUGH. 

powers, Mike paid off his last mortgage about that 
time. The money wasn't in the business. IVe built 
it up since," said Casey, proudly. **But, Mike gave 
Bennett the 'double cross,' I'm thinking." He laughed 
heartily. "What was it?" said the chief with a beating 
heart. He lifted his empty glass and cheerily "called 
on" a bottle of Pommery. "I don't mind telling ye; 
Mike's dead and gone. The boys must have scooped 
them papers and things, on the way. For Mike did 
have a trunk when he came back from that jaunt. He 
^at the boys up to the job. He had it canvased up 
double, and then sent the thing over to a storage ware- 
house in New York. I shipped it for him. He had filled it 
up with stones I think! It was as heavy as lead. He 
must have robbed the trunk. I remember I paid a 
year's storage on it all. Ten or twelve dollars." "I 
don't see why he took all that trouble," mused the in- 
spector. "Ah, he was the devil's own! He just did 
that to hide 'S:.i trunk away. For there's a thousand 
dollars reward out yet for it. Red Mike would have 
nailed the company for that reward, when it was safe. 
I give him back the receipt, and I have had the missus 
often look for it, since we 'jined forces.' But he was 
a sly devil, like. He had a whole lot of hiding places. 
We're still finding hidden things all the while. He 
cunningly stuffed them away, when he was drunk. 
Maybe old Jim Devlin, the undertaker, would know. 
Mike used to keep his private things in Jim's safe, when 
he was dodging the ould woman. 'Twas put in the 
Manhattan, I'm sure, that trunk." 

The inspector joined heartily in the laugh. "And 
so you think that Red Mike put up a job on his best 
friend!" jovially cried the chief. "Oh, he was none 
too good. Sure, Bennett fell into a very soft thing. 
That pretty widow, a million, and his place in Wash- 
ington. He's the fool for luck. It never seems to get 
tired of following him up." "You are right," ener- 
getically said the chief, as he glanced at his watch. 
"Bennett is dead sure of a re-election." "Ye must 
keep this dark," said Casey, earnestly. " 'Twould set 



CHEXJKED THROUGH. 30d 

the railroad men wild. They'd bother the ould woman, 
too. She was a mighty good wife to Mike, and she's 
a better one to me." "You can trust me,'' said the 
chief. "Let me know if I can help you at any time. 
Keep straight, my boy." "Oh, I'm on velvet," laughed 
Casey. "I know too much to go crooked." 

"I fancy I will have now a little audience with Mr. 
James Devlin," was the inspector's decision, as he 
paced the deck of the ferry boat. "But, first, I will 
turn that lovely place at Montauk Point upside down. 
Bennett must be faced with the last proofs. The job 
was done up there, beyond a doubt." 

When Mrs. Jane Coming exhibited her spare rooms 
the next day to Mrs. Florence Renwick, she timidly 
suggested "payment in advance," as the invariable rule. 
There was a keen, shrewd sizing up of the spirited 
young stranger lady's modest dress, and all her slender 
belongings. "It's late in the season, and I rent the 
rooms now to you very cheap," remarked the good 
matron, who had nervously observed a strange man 
wandering by and remarking the pretty front garden. 
"Perhaps he is another customer. He might stay the 
winter," and so she gently lifted the usual weekly rate 
several dollars. Florence Renwick was strangely pale, 
and there were tear marks in her eyes when she de- 
scended from arranging her slender outfit. The very 
walls seemed to speak to her of the beautiful one who 
had gone out from the little cottage, loving and trust- 
ing, on her unknown way, alone. The disguised mil- 
lionairess trusted rightly to woman's curiosity, as she 
displayed, with a secret deftness of arrangement, sev- 
eral photographs of the woman whose mute lips could 
not join in that cry for vengeance which trembled upon 
her sorrowing sister's lips. The little Pennsylvanian 
wandered an hour by the silvery strand, gazing out 
upon the smooth blue waters, where the "Raven" had 
waited for the innocent orphan. There was a keen 
interrogation in Jane Coming's eyes as she met Flor- 
ence Renwick at the door on her return. "Was she 
your sister? Did she send you to me? Why did you 



310 CHECKED THROUGH. 

not tell me?" And the good housewife bustled away. 
"Here," she cried, in triumph, "just as she left it. Of 
course I have not emptied it. There are only papers 
and little things." "Ah, you have her splendid ring 
on now," babbled the woman. "I tried every way to 
find her again, but she had gone off on the yacht that 
sailed that night." The pale Florence Renwick did not 
hear the housewife's chatter. She could not even see 
the face of her own picture, as she held up a photo- 
graph, on whose back her own hand had traced the 
words, "Florence to Madeleine. Ogontz, May 15, 
1888." There was a flood of blinding tears in her 
loving eyes, as she murmured, "She thought of me, the 
darling one, at the last." A few dainty trifles, the old 
family seal of the Wares, a few folded letters, where her 
own handwriting told the story of an undying love, 
and, a jeweler's ring box, with the firm's name therein. 

"I must send a telegram at once to my husband," 
gasped the little Pennsylvanian, as she sought the 
silence of her room, and there, on her knees, the gentle 
wife poured out to God's high throne, her heart's purest 
prayers for the resting of that departed soul. "I should 
have told you before, that — she is dead," faltered Flor- 
ence, as the creaking village carryall bore her away "to 
town." There was no lodger in Mrs. Coming's cot- 
tage that night, and long before the dawn of the next 
day, the chief had the tell-tale ring box in his hand. 

But the detective captain, with a half-dozen search- 
ers, was far away on his errand of discovery at the 
lonely house by the lagoon. For the incoming "Aura- 
nia" had spoken the yacht "Raven," one hundred and 
fifty miles out. And there was joy in Tammany Hall. 
For the silver-voiced young congressman was sure 
now to be on hand, "for the last grand rally." 

Mrs. Jane Coming was relieved when her new 
lodger, departing for the distant city of New York, 
retained the rooms, paying the rent for a month. "We 
shall need to come back here again, together," said 
Florence Renwick, "for I love the very rooms where 
she looked out on the beautiful bay." 



CHECKED THROUGH. 311 

Mr. James Renwick was for the first time in his life 
a deliberate deceiver, while he watched over the impa- 
tient Hiram Bashford, now eagerly awaiting the 
arrival of Mrs. Renwick. It had been a positive in- 
junction of the alert police chief that Bashford should 
be kept in absolute ignorance of the awful secret of the 
strange discovery of the case marked "A. A., Brook- 
lyn." "I must have a long conference now with your 
wife, Mr. Renwick," said the chief. "I will see her dis- 
posed at the Waldorf, with all due care, and you can oc- 
cupy poor old Bashford with various delays. His doctors 
tell me that any sudden shock may kill him at once. 
I must have Bennett and these yacht people safe in 
my own hands, and hold them locked up in secret, 
till we have gone all through the old stone house. I 
have telegraphed up there to the captain to spare no 
effort, for he has already found the boy who saw Ben- 
nett and a young lady leave the 'Raven' on the night 
of its arrival, and conveyed their baggage to this de- 
serted house by the lagoon. There our trail now ends, 
but I know now that it was this *Red Mike' who drove 
that carriage." 

Hiram Bashford was still waiting for the return of 
Florence Renwick three days later, when a servant 
called away the young husband from his long guardian- 
ship. The young man's hand trembled as he read 
the words penned by his anxious-hearted wife: "Come 
down to me now at the Waldorf. The yacht 'Raven' 
is telegraphed at Fire Island, and the police boat has 
gone down." 

"I must leave you now, Counselor," said the young 
husband, as he grasped his hat and stick. "I cannot tell 
you all yet, but Florence soon will. She will be with 
you soon. And promise me that you will not leave 
the hotel. My wife will join you here at once." 

"Renwick, have you found her? For God's sake, 
tell me all!" cried Bashford, as he clasped the young 
man's arm. "I can not. But — Florence knows all, 
now — ^and — she will be here, in half an hour." Hiram 
Bashford saw not the golden glory of that Indian sum- 



312 CHECKBD THROUGH. 

mer morning, as his head dropped on his folded arms. 
He divined the worst of news. "They are bringing 
her home — at last — my poor darling!" On the stairs 
of the Fifth Avenue, James Renwick met Bodley, com- 
ing up to pay his respects to the old head of the firm. 
"How is he?'' anxiously demanded Bodley. "He is 
only a magnificent wreck now," replied Renwick. 
"See here, Mt. Bodley, this may be a matter of life 
and death with Bashford. Do not leave him alone 
an instant till my wife joins you." Bodley turned 
pale. "Have you found her?" he gasped. "There will 
be news — sad news. My wife will tell you, but not a 
single word to Bashford, for he may go down like a 
log. I will come back here, later." 

"I understand," slowly said Bodley, as he gloomily 
mounted the stair, "but, thank God, Bennett will be 
back soon and we must all now get around our poor 
old chief, and try to brighten him up." 

When Renwick reached Mulberry Street, after dis- 
patching his startled wife to guard Bashford from any 
sudden disclosure, the inspector was closeted with a 
stern-faced captain in plain clothes. The Pennsyl- 
vanian was shown right through a mob of morning 
callers. "Ah! Just the very man!'' said the inspector. 
"Sit down, Mr. Renwick. Is your steam launch all 
ready, captain?" The man in mufti nodded. "Then 
get away at once. Take two customs inspectors with 
you and take full possession of the yacht. Put two 
of your best men, out of uniform, aboard that boat 
and hold the captain and steward as prisoners. Mrs. 
Julie Bennett is to be treated with all due courtesy — 
God help her! Keep her aboard and mystify her in some 
way, till I give you orders in her case. As to Bennett, 
your customs inspector is to ask him on board the 
launch, and you may say that the yacht has been re- 
ported for alleged smuggling. Steam straight out to 
the police boat with your prisoner. Keep Bennett 
locked up there. Not a soul is to speak to him. You 
are not to lose sight of him for one moment, till you 
land him secretly after midnight in the Tombs. Put 



CHECKED THROUGH. ZU 

the name down on the Small Book — *John Doe, dis- 
orderly conduct.' The warden has his orders. I'll be 
down there myself. Send a man up here with a coupe 
for me the very moment you land with him. Remem- 
ber, not a soul is to see him, or speak to him. Your 
place depends on your strict obedience." 

"Shall I search him?" the anxious captain asked, 
glancing at his watch. "There's no time to lose now." 

"Only for arms. Let him have all his own personal 
articles, but, he is not to be alone one moment till 
safely landed in his cell. The yapht is to stay down 
there in the bay in charge of the customs inspector. 
The collector has given his orders. You'll find your 
two customs men waiting on the police boat. Tele- 
graph to me from quarantine in cipher." 

"Now, Mr. Renwick," briskly said the inspector as 
the captain sprang away, "just ten minutes for you. 
I have kept all this quiet so far. And we will have 
that brute within four walls to-night! I only wait now 
for the detective to come back from Montauk Point. 
He will be here at nine to-night. He's over at Sag 
Harbor now, and he has found the trunk with their 
whole tourist outfit, buried in the sand near the old 
house. I must have your wife here to identify that 
poor girl's wardrobe if she can. Then we have him 
pinned down. It all depends on that." 

"I will bring her down at once, chief," said Ren- 
wick. "But what can I do with Bashford? I am 
afraid to leave him." The Pennsylvanian briefly 
sketched Bashford's awful suspense. 

"You must go back and pledge Mr. Bodley not to 
leave him — not to be out of his sight for a moment. 
Poor old Bashford. He will accuse himself for going 
away on that long diplomatic trip. It is true that it 
never would have happened if the poor girl had not 
been thrown perfectly defenseless into Bennett's com- 
pany. This damned mixing up of a surface profes- 
sional life with the automatic undertow of womanhood 
is the ruin of all these brilliant girls out of place. Poor 
things! They will always turn the blind eye to the sea- 



814 CHOCKED THROUGH. 

shore. Now, I have the whole thing narrowing down 
to a V trap for this damned schemer. I have shut that 
book fellow's mouth. I gave Carkins last night a 
thousand dollars, and I saw him give the locksmi^ two 
hundred and fifty of it. The railroad check was well 
worth that. And so, they will not talk. My best man 
went over all the jewelers' shops yesterday. Fancy — 
our home-coming rascal really bought that fine ring at 
Benedicts, and the salesman naturally kept a slip of 
its delivery. It was not marked S. B. and the date was 
not put on there, but the date is nearly correct. They 
did not sell Bennett the wedding ring. The clerk recog- 
nized Miss Ware's picture as that of the person who 
took it away. But he did sell Bennett a gold cigarette 
case, marked S. B., with a crest, at the same time. The 
thing caught Bennett's eye, he ordered the marking 
and took it away with him later, when he paid for the 
ring. I fancied that he would buy such a ring down- 
town. It's a natural thing for a downtown man to do. 
I will warrant that your wife is right. There was a 
previous secret marriage, and the poor slaughtered 
girl bought her own wedding ring alone uptown, and 
had them both marked later." 

"How do you know that?" said the astonished visitor. 

"Oh, she would trade near her own apartments. It's 
always a woman's way. I am having all the little shops 
within a mile of her old rooms examined to-day. Let 
your wife break the news of Madeleine Ware's death 
to Bashford, and say that in a few days he can verify it. 
Remember, Bodley must stand by him now. Blake 
can relieve him. I must have both you and Mrs. Ren- 
wick down here to-night." 

"I cannot understand her European letter," slowly 
said the mystified young man. 

"I can," vigorously cried out the inspector. "That 
letter was not dated and it had no address. This arch 
scoundrel sent it over to Europe by a messenger to be 
mailed back, and I would give a year of my life if the 
scoundrel were still alive. For the man who was Ben- 
nett's chum in his Long Island wanderings went over 



CHECKED THROUGH. 315 

for a run about that time, and I have found out he was ♦ 
truly in Liverpool when the decoy letter was mailed. 
He has escaped, but, by God, Seaton Bennett shall 
pay for this cowardly murder with his wretched life!" 
The table shook under the impact of the inspector's 
fist, and Renwick went sadly away. "It was the 
devil's bribe for the congressional place and the rich 
marriage,'' mused the inspector. "Seaton Bennett 
played a double game, and his life is the forfeit. 'First 
winners, last losers,' as the schoolboys say." 

It was three hours later when the inspector, busied 
with another mystery, lent ear to his outside man's re- 
port. "I went in to the Fifth Avenue to ask Mrs. Ren- 
wick about the plain ring," said the man, "and she at 
once remembered the little black bag found at Green- 
port. There was a common ring box there and the 
address fortunately within. A cheap Sixth Avenue 
store was the place where the wedding ring was sold 
and the eng^ving done. There is the order book tag, . 
and it was a young woman who had the two engraved. 
The jeweler recognized the three-stone ring and his 
own work." 

"That's all right, Moffatt,'' said the chief. "It bears 
out our built-up story of a secret marriage. She would 
have a wedding ring, poor child, even if she bought it 
herself. Such tender, womanly fancies." 

The long day wore slowly away, as the anxious in- 
spector gazed hungrily at the clock. He thirsted now 
for the stem vengeance of the law, and chafed at the 
delay. "Suppose that scoundrel should make another 
landing! If this thing were to leak out, the slightest 
suspicious hint would be his signal for flight. But he 
is in the dark. What the devil was Doolan about? 
Did he steal the poor girl's body to incriminate Ben- 
nett? It was a strange holding over of the fatal evi- 
dence. John Barleycorn must have driven this low ; 
fellow mad. And yet he had his criminal scheme of \ 
his own — some low rounder's trick. For there is no ■ 
postoffice box 1758 in Brooklyn." The chief himself 



Yr 



316 CHECKED THROUGH. 

had taken a glance at the books of the Manhattan 
Storage Company. 

The acute Jamison, loitering over his books, easily 
divined that the inspector was perhaps on the track of 
some stolen archives. "Strange thing about that case 
of books, sir,'' the clerk volunteered. "People very 
seldom pay advance storage here. The fellows who 
put that in probably forgot their storage bill. It's 
often so. Time reels itself off so quickly. I lead a 
dog's life here. Some day those fellows will turn up 
and then give me a round cursing for letting the things 
go." 

"Not those fellows! Never fear!" growled the chief. 
"They are a long distance from here now." 

"Skipped out?" flippantly asked Jamison. 

"Permanently retired from business," gravely an- 
swered the official as he stalked away. 

There was a silent circle all that day gathered around 
Hiram Bashford as he gazed hopelessly from one pity- 
ing face to another, at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. His 
voice trembled as he vainly demanded every detail of 
the hiatus in the murdered girl's last days. All in vain 
was his urging, for he was sadly bidden to wait. And 
so he only knew that the light of his life had fled for- 
ever. He suddenly bounded up from his chair. "If 
there has been wrong done, I'll — " The words died 
away upon his lips, as his head fell forward. 

"This is the first call," said the physician, hastily sum- 
moned. He led Florence Renwick out of the room, 
while the men busied themselves with the attendants.. 
"When the great lawyer goes, it will be a Dean Swift 
case. He will begin to die at the top." 

And the leaden clock hands crawled on slowly as 
the sunset shadows darkened down on the Square, 
where the autumn leaves now rustled sadly down. It 
was a day of the dead. 

Under a strong swinging breeze the weather-beaten 
"Raven" came dashing on homeward over the crisp 
curling waves toward the highlands of Navesink as 



CHECKED THROUGH. 317 

the golden sun sank to the West. There was a score 
of great craft all thronging the channel, and the busy 
coasters flitted about like white phantoms on the blue 
sea. Great tugs dragged their long lines of barges, 
slowly creeping on, while the great "liners" sped on 
in majestic sweep over the light sea, which never lifted 
their keels an inch. There were two happy hearts lin- 
gering on the quarter deck, where the Honorable Sea- 
ton Bennett now stood with his beautiful wife clinging 
to his arm. 

"Will we be at home to-night?'' she asked, with all a 
woman's yearning for her own fireside. For well she 
knew that the cable had prepared all for this home- 
coming of the triumphant young statesman. 

"There's only a brief delay at quarantine, Julie," 
said Bennett, pressing the fond woman's rounded arm. 
"I suppose that they will put a customs man in charge. 
We can get all our belongings off to-morrow. I wrote 
to our people at the Hall to have no political demon- 
stration." 

"That is right. I only want to be at home once 
more — ^with you," was the happy wife's reply, as she 
gazed in pride at her husband. "Honors can wait. For 
they cannot do without you. And, they will claim you 
soon enough." 

The graceful boat dashed along like a giant sea bird, 
her great sails wing and wing, and far above them at 
the main trunk the private signal fluttered under the 
long streamer pennant. 

"Shall I run up our colors, sir?" asked the bronzed 
captain, touching his hat. He had the American en- 
sign already cast loose, and the sailor stood halliards 
in hand. 

Hank Moulton was startled as Bennett sharply cried, 
"No! No flag! They know who we are well enough!" 
For a sudden gust of memory had swept away the 
golden mists of those two years of wondrous success, 
, and he saw again that flag floating as a signal to lure 
beautiful young Madeleine Ware to her death. It 
was the very flag which had streamed out in the breezes 



818 CHECKED THROUGH. 

blowing off from Greenport where the betrayed orphan 
had gone, loving and trusting, on her way alone. 

"Customs launch, sir," briefly reported the skipper, 
as a little boat filled with men now shot along over the 
smooth water when the yacht danced over the quar- 
antine line. 

"Better anchor. They will perhaps keep us here 
over night. It's very near six o'clock," said Bennett. 

"I think that I will go down into the cabin, Seaton, 
while you are busy with these gentlemen," said Julie 
Bennett, as she shivered slightly, for the evening chill 
was in the air. 

Bennett bent his handsome head and kissed her fond- 
ly. "Welcome home, darling," he whispered. "We have 
the dear home life to begin all over again." 

"I am so happy, so glad, to see our own fireside 
again," the lady murmured as she went below. 

As her graceful form disappeared the anchor rattled 
down and the Honorable Seaton Bennett, his face 
wreathed in smiles, stepped briskly forward as three 
men clambered over the rail. The senior spoke a few 
earnest words to the returning congressman. 

"Why, certainly! Pll just say a word to my wife and 
get a great coat," was the unsuspicious answer of Ben- 
nett. He darted below and cheerily cried: "Just going 
aboard the customs steamer to make the usual declara- 
tion. I'll be back in half an hour, little woman." And 
he pressed a last good-bye kiss upon her lips, for two 
soft arms had clasped him in a loving adieu. 

"Captain Hank Moulton, gentlemen!" said Ben- 
nett, gaily. "The best sailor I ever saw." 

"These customs gentlemen are in charge, Moulton,'' 
was Bennett's last words as he sprang into the launch. 
Turning around, he waved his handkerchief as a sweet 
face followed him from the open cabin windows with an 
arch glance of mimic dismay. 

There were two sturdy men, blue shaven, who 
watched the launch speed away, and nudged each other 
significantly. "It's a go," said the first, "but I'm 
devilish sorry for his poor wife." And the other sighed 



CHECKED THROUGH. 819 

and said nothing, but he narrowly eyed the steward, 
as the captain called him up with the usual courtesies. 
"That's our second man/' he whispered to his mate as 
the steward went below with his wine tray* 

"I am afraid that there is some little trouble with 
the customs, madame," said Captain Moulton two 
hours later, to the anxious woman, who waited in the 
cabin of the "Raven" for her unreturning husband. 
"The launch has just run alongside to say that Mr. 
Bennett will not be back till morning. I can't under- 
stand it. He may have run up to the city to get a 
customs broker or ship lawyer." 

And it was late that night when the lonely Julie Mar- 
tyn closed her eyelids. For their home-coming was 
now shaded by this untoward incident, and she mur- 
mured words in prayer for a man who was now securely 
locked in the strong room of the police boat 

Seaton Bennett's face was ashen pale and his eyes 
were bloodshot, as he raved in vain. But the stern po- 
lice captain who stood beside him had a brawny as- 
sistant at his elbow. "I can say nothing, sir. I regret 
this trouble. Don't force me to iron you !" 

And, raging inwardly, Seaton Bennett glared at the 
two guardians over him with the fierce stare of a tiger 
at bay. "I will have satisfaction for this outrage!" he 
yelled. 

"That is not my affair," was the captain's cold re- 
sponse. 

It was two o'clock at night and nothing but a draught 
of water had crossed Seaton Bennett's lips, when the 
man drowsily watching him opened the door in answer 
to a sharp, imperative knock. The police steamer had 
been moored at the New York dock for an hour. "You 
must come with me now," the tall captain said, as Ben- 
nett sprang forward. 

"Ah!" 

There was a brief struggle, and for the first time in 
his life, the proud man, who vainly battled with four 
stout policemen, felt the snap of steel upon his two 



320 CHECKED THROUGH. 

wrists. "Carry him if he will not walkT' shouted the 
captain. 

And then, the struggling man knew that the doom he 
had so long feared had come upon him. The busy 
devil in his heart glibly counseled the man whom he' 
had made his prey. "I have fooled them all/' was Ben- 
nett's lightning decision. "I will fool them yet They 
have nothing whatever to show against me.'' And he 
walked with a firm step to the waiting carriage, which 
dashed away through the silent streets. And yet, busy, 
comforting devil and all, he shuddered, an hour later, 
when the hollow clang of an iron door resounded, and 
he knew that he had been, half dragged, half led, into 
a stone cell on the second corridor of the Tombs. 

No stone idol gazing out with sphinx-like face was 
more mute than the burly man on guard who watched 
the prisoner's vigil. The blood beat upon Seaton Ben- 
nett's throbbing brain, and he threw himself down, 
dressed as he was, on the rude couch, after slacking 
his thirst like a panting dog. He knew now that the 
struggle for his life had already begun. And yet, his 
cunning brain told him that the old-time panther alert- 
ness alone would save him. "This is only some dirty 
trap," he muttered, and then he turned his face to the 
wall. But sleep came not to his eyes! 

Below, in the office of the Tombs, the inspector him- 
self had verified the safe arrival of the caged victim of 
the mysterious vengeance of Providence. "Not a soul 
is to see him. Keep all the reporters in the dark. Re- 
member this," said the inspector, as the warden es- 
corted him out to the great pillared porch of this 
gloomy fastness of hydra horrors. "Just enter him on 
the small book, till further orders." The great crimi- 
nal hunter then sought his rest in a gloomy triumph. 
"It is astounding," mused the inspector as he locked 
his chamber door at the Astor House. For he had 
business of moment early in the morning. 

"It was a shrewd thing of the captain to sound the 
sands around the old house by the lagoon. This fel- 
low Doolan must have had some dark scheme of long- 



CHECKED' THROUGH. 321 

continued blackmail. This trunk found under the old 
signal station was filled with Bennett's own belongings 
mingled with the poor girl's slender outfit Now, she had 
left all her valuables behind at the Mamaroneck place, 
and Mrs. Renwick can only identify the few little 
mementos which she would take with her, even in her 
hurried journey, to the meeting place. Yes! He must 
have deluded her away under the pretense of going 
West, and then, killed her at that lonely place. How? 
The physicians must determine that now, if that process 
has not complicated the search for proof. And the 
helper? Was he only a tool or an accomplice? I will 
know soon, for Mr. James Devlin, too, will be in a 
solitary cell to-morrow night. FU worry the truth out 
of him. Mike Doolan's death may give this cur Ben- 
nett a fighting chance for his life, for this undertaker 
has been a decent man of his class — ^just a popular 
low grade Irish undertaker — ^the secular high priest 
of a dozen of these burial societies. If he is innocent 
he will at once hasten to clear himself. But, Mr. Sea- 
ton Bennett, your race is run! Thank God, there's no 
publicity yet, for I would then have to bring Bennett 
out into the open, and there would be a terrible fight 
for his life. Juries are juries! What a mockery of 
justice." 

The eclipse of sleep cut off the perplexed inspector's 
ruminations upon the unreliability of the modern jury 
system. 

It was ten o'clock when the rays of the sun awak- 
ened the man whose frown had been the terror of the 
"fancy" for long years. Springing from his couch, he 
hastily dressed. "Pll take a street coupe, drive home, 
freshen myself up, and then telegraph over to Long 
Island City, to see if I have gathered in my man Dev- 
lin. Then, for Mr. Seaton Bennett!" And the chief 
bustled out of the side door and sped away to his up- 
town home. He had scarcely entered his own dressing 
room after a long ride in the fresh morning air, when 
the telephone bell suddenly called him away from his 
hasty toilet. He was cheerful, for a dispatch awaiting 



822 CHESCKED THROuaH. 

him told of the fact that James Devlin was neatly 
ensconced in the Long Island City jail. "He must 
know nothing of the discovery. That's the vital 
point," had been the chiefs first thought. "They must 
not be allowed to cook up a joint story." 

As the inspector hastened to the telephone box, his 
face grew convulsed with a sudden fear. "Wanted, 
instantly, at the Tombs! Heavens! Bennett must not 
escape God's vengeance!" 

Down the long street the inspector's carriage tore 
along as swiftly as a fire patrol wagon dashing away 
to the rescue. He could see from the windows the 
nimble lads crying, "Extra! Extra!" and they had 
sheaves of leaded sheets under their arms. But not a 
moment did the great inspector hesitate as he urged 
his driver on. 

When the morning factory whistles sounded at seven 
o'clock and their echoes woke the haggard-eyed man 
in the solitary cell at the Tombs, the guardian of the 
night yawned and let in a frowsy-looking "trusty" with 
a tray of coarse food. "Stay here for a half an hour, 

Jim," said the sleepy guard. "I want to get my own 
reakfast." And he then whispered a few words to 
the new-comer, who glared at the Honorable Seaton 
Bennett and nodded, a convict's first greeting — one of 
the guild. There was the clash of a door far down the 
corridor, and then, as the guard's steps died away, 
Seaton Bennett sprang to the "trusty's" side. "There's 
a thousand dollars in these," he hissed, tearing two dia- 
mond set cuff links from his sleeves. "Get me the 
morning papers." 

The man hesitated. "On the dead square, gov- 
ernor?" the sleepy looking brute answered. 
"Hasten! I've got more for you! Quick!" 
"Oh, Jim will have his breakfast, and a shave, and a 
drink. You've got lots of time! Money talks, even 
in the Tombs," was the trusty's reply. "Want a drink?" 
Bennett nodded. And the leering man, locking the 
door, lounged away. He returned in a few moments 
and thrust a damp paper into Bennett's hands. "There's 



CHECKED THROUGH. 32$ 

a hell of a racket about some pretty girl found dead in 
a box — in a trunk at the Manhattan Storage House. 
Is that what you're lagged for?" 

The man whose name was now heading the great 
flaring posters of the "Last Grand Rally" hoarsely 
whispered, "Have you got the drink?" 

"No ! Wait ! Fll get you a flask, but you must drink 
it quick and give it back. I Ve got a reputation to sup- 
port." 

Bennett forgot the coarse familiarity of the frowsy 
loafer, and only saw the grim stone walls swing around 
him as he eagerly devoured the two black headed col- 
umns of the flaring "extra." Something then seemed 
to snap in his brain as he read the sensational disclos- 
ure. There was the whole ghastly story! The trunk 
marked S. B., and the check strap and that tell-tale 
brass tag marked 17580! In a moment all the vantage 
walls he had cunningly builded fell around him with a 
crash. "That damned scoundrel Doolan betrayed me!'' 
he groaned. "And he would have hounded me to hell 
later. His death revealed this hidden witness. He 
stole the trunk and he put — My God!" a hoarse yell 
was smothered in his throat as he heard the lazy 
"trusty" shuffling up the corridor. For the thought of 
that loving woman came to him now, she whose arms 
had clasped him in love's last embrace as he left her 
with her eyes shining on him in tenderness. "She must 
never know! By (^Dd! I'll fool them all yet!" and a 
cunning glance was in his gleaming eyes as he held out 
his shaking hand for the flask. "Bring me a little 
sugar!" he softly whined. "There! Go! That's all I've 
got," and he thrust a roll of bills in the "trusty's'' hand. 

"I'll get his watch yet," chuckled the scoundrel as he 
sped away. 

Seaton Bennett quickly wheeled around and thrust 
his face to the grated bars. He heard the far away cor- 
ridor door clang. He then drew back as the contact of 
the iron bars chilled his burning face. "I must be 
quick now!" he muttered, speaking in a dazed mono- 
tone, "Yes! I will fool them all yet!" And his 



324 CHECKED THROUGH. 

trembling fingers tore open an oval locket pendant 
from the end of his double guard chain. He sprang to 
the gloomy comer, where the tin cup hung upon a 
chain. He dropped the locket in the water which he 
had drawn into the heavy cup. And his hand shook in 
a last nervous convulsion as he saw the white powder 
melt out of the golden case. "Ah !" he gasped, as he 
could hear the lock grating in the corridor door. He 
raised the cup still hanging on the chain to his fevered 
lips. There was a rattling sound as the chained cup 
clashed back against the echoing stone walls. Then 
a crash as of a heavy body falling! Not a sound fol- 
lowed but the clatter of the trusty's feet as he sprang 
up the corridor. The frightened spoiler of the criminal 
tore the door open. "The damned cove has been and 
done himself up!'' cried the frightened brute as he fled 
away down the corridor to alarm the keepers with 
frantic yells. And yet, he had all a convict's cunning, 
for he had thrust the journal and the whisky flask under 
his own greasy vest. 

Grim and stem was the inspector as he stood a half 
hour later over the fallen body of the man who had 
"fooled them all at last." The story of the "tmsty" 
was stubbomlv blurted out. "He had somethink he 
just slipped in the water. An' I warn't no death 
watch." 

The inspector's cold gray eyes rested upon the fallen 
statesman's corpse in an unpitying stare, for he knew 
now that the windfall of reward money had set Car- 
kins and the smith upon an extended debauch, and 
that an enterprising "morning journal" had spread all 
the babblings of the drunkards abroad. "Wheels 
within wheels," mused the chief. "The news must have 
reached him. The whole story will never be told now. 
It was the same poison which struck down that poor 
girl perhaps. God help his poor wife! I must hide 
what I can of this terrible crime — for the sake of the 
innocent, alive and dead." 

And soon then a curious crowd gathered to gaze 
at the senseless thing that had been a man — sl man of 



CHBCKED THROUGH. 325 

bounding pulses, of wild passions, a fool of fortune, to 
whom the devil in his heart had exultingly cried, "The 
Cyanide process is a success/' 

Before the sun threw a sickly gleam of reflected 
noon-day beams into the dark corridor of the Tombs 
Seaton Bennett's lifeless form lay, veiled from the sight 
of men, in charge of the officers of the law. There was 
a hastily summoned junta of political friends, and then 
the three most confidential comrades of Be;inett's brief 
public life departed to await the arrival of the "Raven" 
from quarantine. It had been the chiefs first duty to 
dispatch the detective captain to bring the steward 
and skipper, Hank Moulton, to Mulberry Street. "You 
may use all fitting discretion with Mrs. Bennett," said 
the inspector. "Tell her that the boat is still in charge 
of the customs officers, and let the sailing master take 
the yacht to her usual anchorage. The customs in- 
spector will seal the cabins and all the hatches. I have 
asked this delegation of family and political friends to 
take Mrs. Bennett to her home. Leave it to them to 
break the news of this vacancy on the winning ticket. 
His friends agree that oblivion is best — for all. As 
for Bennett, no new charge can be made against him 
legally now. He stands on the 'small book' as *John 
Doe, disorderly conduct.' But how on the 'Great 
Book?* He has left a loving woman's broken heart 
behind, and the pale wraith of the murdered girl is 
waiting there to arraign him before the bar of God's 
judgment. I have sent for Mr. Renwick, and I think 
Hugh Atwater and he, had better get Bashford away at 
once to Delaware. There is nothing left but to bury 
both murderer and victim." 

"And — further investigation?" anxiously questioned 
the captain. 

"That depends on this man Devlin. Now, when you 
bring me Moulton and the steward, the last links of the 
chain are complete." 

Long before the "Raven" had been towed to her 
anchorage in South Bay the woman who had showered 
fortune's favors and a passionate love upon the dead 



826 CHBCKED THROUGH. 

schemer knew that she was left alone in the world. 

From the moment of Seaton Bennett's death an im- 
penetrable mystery rested upon all the eagerly sought 
details of his sudden death. For a new name was 
being hastily printed upon the election tickets and the 
Nineteenth District "tossed its ready cap in air** for 
the next favorite of the great political society. The baf- 
fled reporters ran to and fro vainly, but a wall seemed 
to grow up between them and the double tragedy. 

Renwick sat in the room at Mulberry Street moody 
and silent, while the inspector plied the frightened 
funeral director of Long Island City with questions. 
And yet, shaken in his every nerve, Devlin's quick 
Irish wit and glib tongue guided him craftily on. The 
easy formalities of the Long Island City jail had given 
the undertaker access to his usual creature comforts 
and all the daily papers. And, a member of a dozen 
secret societies, Devlin knew from the easy-going po- 
lice that Seaton Bennett's lips were sealed in death 
long before he faced the grim inspector. The time 
was short, but he was now ready. 

"I'll make a clean breast of it all. For, why should I 
not? If Doolan took advantage of me, he's not here 
to answer now," so Devlin babbled along. "When I 
was taken down to that lonely house by Red Mike, he 
told a straight-out story of sudden trouble. A Cuban 
gentleman coming in on his yacht, and wanting to 
quietly meet some of his revolutionary friends, plan- 
ning a new rising, had hired this lonely place. The 
story of the lady dying alone of heart disease was 
given to me. It was all apparently fair and decent. 
Doolan said that the Cuban sailors would never take 
her body home on the yacht with their superstition, 
and the conspiring foreigner was afraid of our laws 
and customs authorities. The poor, darling lady was 
rightly dead. I made all the usual arrangements for 
preservation and transportation. The reason given was 
fair enough, and I had trusted Doolan for twenty 
years. Yes, I do remember that big trunk, marked 
S. B. I gave Mr. Doolan both the lady's rings. 'FU 



CHECKED THROUGH. 327 

keep them for him, safe/ said he. 'Yes/ said I. For 
the one is very valuable. And he gave me the name. 
S. B. — 'Santos Benavides.' I was sent away home, 
and only as well paid as usual for my time and pro- 
fessional trouble. Doolan quietly sent me away to 
the train by a boy. They're loading on arms and am- 
munition secretly for Cuba at the old landing/ said he. 
This will go aboard as a case of arms, and so the sail- 
ors will never know.' I made sure to question Doolan 
a week later when he came back. 'The yacht got safely 
off to Cuba,' said he, 'and I never heard a word of any- 
thing wrong.' Yes, those are the very rings. And the 
picture, too, looks like the poor, darling lady.'' 

A half hour's questioning failed to shake the crafty 
old fellow's nerve. "The burial regulations and legal 
formalities? Why, they are violated a hundred times 
a year. Doolan was a leading man, a big tax-payer, 
and, beyond a political row now and then, and his 
whisky trade, he was never in any trouble. Can't ye 
see, chief, what I'd do for him? Sure, we were boys in 
the old country together." 

"FU parol you, Devlin, to the custody of the chief 
at Long Island City," said the inspector. "If I want 
you, show up at once here. And, make no mistake. 
Don't try to leave the town. I'll know of your every 
movement." 

The inspector turned to Renwick, when Devlin has- 
tily scuttled away. "I wish to give him a little rope. 
If he looks up any of the 'trunk gang' I will know it," 
was the grim prophecy, "but, I am inclined to believe 
that the marble block over Red Mike's body holds the 
real secret down. This fellow was only a catspaw for 
the dead blackmailer." 

The frightened yacht steward was soon led in by the 
detective captain and blurted out his own story while 
quivering with fear. 

"Yes, sir! That's the lady who came on in the night 
and got off at Sag Harbor. She was heavily veiled 
when she came off in our boat at Greenport, but I saw 
her face. I watched them through the cabin skylight 



828 CHECKED THROUGH. 

and had just one glimpse of her face, for Mr. Benncil 
then rang for me, and he met me carefully at the gang- 
way. That's all I know. And he left the yacht that 
night with her. We saw him next down at Cape May. 
I stowed the trunk she brought. This one looks like 
it, and the other is Mr. Bennett's own trunk. These 
are the very clothes he had in it, and a lot of papers. I 
had packed it often for him." 

The bearded yacht skipper at once told a manly 
story. "I was engaged to sail the 'Raven' by the year. 
Mrs. Martyn loaned her yacht out right and left. We've 
had dozens of very strange parties aboard — ^political, 
hunting parties, and, well, social cruises. The yacht 
was Mr. Bennett's to command after we took to cruis- 
ing down to Prince's Bay. For God's sake, keep me 
out of this thing! Mrs. Martyn was a kind employer. 
It's true that I run the boat in at Greenport and took 
a lady over to Montauk Point. But I could easily see 
that Mr. Bennett did not wish me to know her, by his 
actions. I had my boat to sail, and there was no oc- 
casion for me to pry into his secrets. For that matter, 
the summer history of any of the pleasure yachts flit- 
ting along our coast would astonish even you. I am 
a sailor, chief, and a family man. But there are plenty 
of skippers who are paid not to see anything. I earn 
my bread on the salt water, and I have never touched a 
cent of bribe or blackmail. What shall I do now with 
the boat? I only know that this poor lady came and 
went, in silence, under Mr. Bennett's own escort." 

"Take your man, captain," said the chief sadly. "Get 
back on the 'Raven.' FU leave one man there as a 
formalit)r. You must now wait Mrs. Bennett's orders. 
Should you be discharged by her, come in and see me. 
I want to keep your address and that of your steward. 
Say nothing of this to Mrs. Bennett. She has enough 
to bear. Poor woman. Her life will be dreary enough 
as it is.'' 

"God help her! It's a sad home-coming!" said 
Moulton, brushing his eyes with the back of a bronzed; 
hand. "She would have died herself, I'll go bail, rather \ 

\ 



CHECKED THROUGH. 329 

than b!! the bait to this cruel deed. She is a decent 
woman!" 

"Ah, captain, there's the rub. In thirty years of po- 
lice life, IVe tried to find out why the innocent often 
suffer in the place of the guilty," mournfully said the 
chief, "and I have failed to find the answer, either in 
the codes or in the counsels of the wise. There is some- 
thing strange in the uselessness of crime; something 
awful in the terrible rushing tide of temptation ; some- 
thing mockingly cruel in the final fruitlessness of evil 
deeds. But, for cold heartlessness, for crafty brutality, 
for a devilish unpitying wickedness, give me always the 
educated man or woman who goes wrong. There's no 
limit to their fiendishness." 

The mansion on Murray Hill was soon tenantless 
and none of the thousand friends of Seaton Bennett 
knew to what comer of the earth the woman whose 
love had exalted the dead man, fled away to bear alone 
her burden of sorrow and shame. The long days 
dragged on and winter snows covered the slayer and 
his victim with their ermine mantle. 

There was nothing of all the high-souled aspirations 
of the modem Portia left now to linger in the hearts 
of the living, for the flickering fever of her life had 
burned itself out unsatisfied. 

Only a grave under the spreading elms of the lonely 
park on the Delaware, which became the Mecca of the 
loving hearts who fondly thought of her, at her best, 
with all the bright promise of youth shining upon her 
stainless brow. 

There was one faithful guardian of the sacred spot, 
in the broken old man, once the great counselor, who 
now saw the past "as through a glass darkly.'' For 
Hiram Bashford would ever question his attendant, 
"Where is Madeleine?" And they would vainly lead 
him to her tomb and show him the words graven there, 
"Madeleine Ware — loviujg and trusting — she went on 
her way — alone !" 

THE END, 



\ 



^1 



I 



■.V 










THE NBW 1 

REFBR 

Thi. book 1> DO 

taken 


rORK PUBLIC LIBRARY 

BNCB DBFARTMSNT 


from the Building 














































n 














M 










i 














■^^ 








i(^ 








i 








@' ■ - 


m 






m^ 


r.. '^M